


Green Eyes (I'd Run Away With You)

by salem (guccisuit)



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alcohol, M/M, Recreational Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 11:28:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,118
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6422158
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/guccisuit/pseuds/salem
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After a frenzied party results in an accidental switch up of phones, Liam and Harry welcome each other temporarily into their lives as they casually chat about meeting up to switch back. It’s not hard to get to know each other while they wait, but when what should have been an innocent blip in each of their lives turns into months of endless texting, meddlesome friends, pot noodles,  too much Shakespeare, and plenty of confusions, their feelings are put to the test.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Green Eyes (I'd Run Away With You)

**Author's Note:**

> This has been my baby for such a long time, it's honestly incredible that I'm finally getting to post it.  
> It's about half beta-ed so any problems you find just before liam **** ** *** ***** **** are all mine!
> 
> I have to say a huge thank you to my loves:
> 
> Autumn, [@penelopes](http://archiveofourown.org/users/penelopes) for reading this fic, giving me honest feedback and just helping me along the way. Without you, this wouldn't exist. You are my knight in shining armor. Thank you. Thank you. THANK YOU.
> 
> And to Courtney, thank you for helping me out with all the little stuff, giving me feedback and laughing at my jokes.
> 
>  
> 
> title from Green Eyes by Wavves

Liam wakes up with sandpaper in his mouth and lightning splitting his skull right behind his eyes. Honestly, he’s never been less surprised about anything. He’s still got last night's jeans on and there's no extra warmth in his bed, which are all excellent signs for waking up the morning after getting blackout drunk at some cushy frat party. 

He presses the heel of his hand to his eyes, trying to alleviate the pressure pounding behind them, and pulls himself into a sitting position. His phone’s vibrating against his thigh, and he knows that it's Louis calling to discuss the night prior. Liam hasn’t had his tea and his mind’s not quite caught up to his body so he let’s it vibrate as he makes his way to the bathroom.

It takes fifteen minutes for his phone to start vibrating again, though he’s turning the shower water on and striping off his clothes. He can hear the hum of it against the tiles of the floor and for a moment he considers there being some sort of emergency, but shrugs it off and climbs into the bath. 

****

***

He's pulling a new shirt over his head when there's a knock at the door. Not just a knock, that'd be too simple. This is a strategically planned and well thought-out beat being pounded against his door.

"Was that Kanye?" he questions when he pulls the door open.

"Pathetic. It was Drake. Don't even sound alike, Li." Zayn side steps Liam and flops down on the sofa in the main room of the flat. 

"What kind of hour do you call this, mate? Been up worried sick thinking my roomie and best mate is dead in a ditch somewhere!" Liam's voice is mock-stern as he crosses to the small kitchen to put a kettle on. 

"Not that worried since I've been callin' you since you left the party last night and through this morning." That explains the multiple calls. "Left my key here, crashed at Lou's.”

Liam just gives him a shrug. "Haven't looked at me phone since I woke up. Sorry, Zee." He should do that; he figures it's still on the bathroom floor tucked into his jean pocket. 

With the kettle sat on the burner, Liam walks to the bathroom, digging his phone from his jeans. He furrows his brows in confusion because this -- this isn't his phone. It's the same type of phone and it's the same color as his, but the lock screen isn't the picture of Liam, Zayn and Louis dressed as the Avengers from last Halloween that he’s had since the picture was taken. No, this picture is an awkwardly angled black and white image of -- Liam tilts his head as he looks at it -- some kind of building... maybe. The case is different, too. This one is sleek and clear, meant just for protection. Liam had handed his case along with some permanent markers over to Zayn to spice it up. The phone vibrates in his hand and he turns it over to see a text notification from a slightly familiar number. 

"Zayn," Liam calls from the bathroom. "What's my phone number?"

"Uh, 020 7946 0734. Why, mate?"

Liam steps out of the bathroom. "Got a text from meself," he laughs and holds the phone up, reading it. "Please say the person whose phone I have has mine."

"Explains why you ignored me for twelve hours." 

****

***

Liam texts the number back immediately, confirming that they had switched phones and telling the other that their mother had called several times.

**From: ????  
To: Liam**

_This might sound terrible but could you text me her number? The worst son in the world for not knowing it I know_

Liam laughs and goes into the guy’s contacts, scrolling until he finds 'Mama x' (adorable). He texts the boy the number. 

**From: ????  
To: Liam**

_Thanks mate. I'm actually on a train headed home for the weekend. I was running late this morning and didn't even check my phone until I was halfway to Holmes Chapel_

Liam groans; that means it'll be a weekend before they could swap phones back. A weekend without his phone. A weekend with a stranger’s phone. 

**From: Liam  
To: ????**

_Guess we're stuck w each other's phone til then. Might as well get 2 know each other I'm Liam_

**From: ????  
To: Liam**

_Guess so. I'm Harry x_

Liam saves his number into the guy’s phone under 'Harry/my phone' and shakes his head with a huff. 

**From: Liam  
To: Harry **

_Nice 2 meet you. I gotta go 2work Harry. Make urself at home. Mi phone es su phone. If u need any more numbers just ask n I'll sort it_

**From: Liam  
To: Harry**

_Don't answer any calls from "Tommo" he's dramatic._

**From: Harry  
To: Liam**

_Noted. Have a marvelous day at work, Liam x_

 

*******

Liam gets one call on Harry's phone. It's a boy named Niall, and Liam can hardly understand his accent so he just cuts the boy off, telling him that Harry'll have a different number for the weekend, and then gives Niall his phone number. Other than that it's quiet; there are a few Instagram notifications, and a few on Twitter as well, but Liam's trying his best not to snoop. 

**From: Harry  
To: Liam**

_Is this you in your lock screen?_

**From: Liam  
To: Harry**

_yea in the captain america suit thts tommo as spiderman n my room mate Zayn as ironman._

**From: Harry  
To: Liam**

_Captain America's my favorite. Well fit._

Liam blushes but he doesn't know why, the compliment wasn't directed towards him. It was meant for Chris Evans, who probably hears stuff like that all the time. Liam does too he supposes, but it's enough to make his entire face burn red every time. 

He taps his fingers against the back of the phone and worries his lip as his mind is mulling over a response. Harry’s last text just has him thinking they might have more in common than the phone mix up. He types it out, deletes it. Then he starts typing it out again. Liam’s thumb brushes over the send button, setting the text in cement. 

**From: Liam  
To: Harry**

_U like blokes then?_

His body tenses up as soon as he sends it, fearing he'll offend the guy with access to everything on his phone. 

**From: Liam  
To: Harry**

_Shit. not that it matters or anything_

**From: Harry  
To: Liam**

_Like it all. Blokes, birds, anything in between. Not that important._

Liam sighs a breath of relief.

**From: Liam  
To: Harry**

_Me 2._

**From: Harry  
To: Liam**

_Look at that! We've so much in common Liam :D_

**From: Liam  
To: Harry**

_Guess so_

**From: Harry  
To: Liam**

_Goodnight Liam xx only 3 more days until we can switch back._

 

*******

"So, you're saying some guy has your phone in Holmes Chapel? How'd that even happen?"

Liam rolls his eyes. In the last two days, he's already explained the story to Zayn and to his mum and his work and his mates from school and Louis would have already known if he paid any bit of attention to him, but of course he doesn't.

"He goes to school with us, Lou. We just picked up the wrong phones at that party on campus Wednesday."

"What's his name?"

"Harry something."

"Harry something? You don't even have a last name?" Louis folds his arms over his chest and leans against the back of the couch. "What if he turns out to be some loon?"

"Me knowing his last name won't make him less of a loon if he is one, mate."

Louis huffs in response, "What's he look like?"

"Dunno."

"What do you mean 'dunno'? You have his phone in your pocket and haven't once looked to see if you could find a selfie?"

"I -- no. Of course I haven't? That's snooping! What if there's something he doesn't want people seeing?"

"Morals," Louis scoffs, showing his disgusts with a wave of his hand in the air as if to get the concept away from him. "He's got social media, yeah? Just pull that up and look. It's all public, not exactly stuff he's hiding." 

"Aren't you a little curious, Li?" Zayn asks from where he's perched on the window sill, blowing smoke into the London air outside. "You said he knows what you look like cos your background of us. Only fair."

"Well, now you have to look him up if he knows what all three of us look like. I demand to know what he looks like," Louis takes a step toward Liam, like he’s threatening to reach into the Liam’s pocket and pull it up himself if Liam doesn't do it.

"Fine, Christ." Liam thumbs the phone opened and pulls up Instagram. He goes to Harry’s profile and scrolls through a million obscure black and white photos of nothing before finally coming across what he thinks is probably a selfie. (Though it could be anyone at all that he’s just posted on here.) "Here you wankers." He shoves the phone in Louis' face and Zayn makes his way over curiously.

"Nice," Zayn hums, pulling the phone from Liam's hands and examining the picture closely. "Just his type innit, Lou?"

Louis nods and leans over Zayn's arm to look at the picture. "Exactly what I was thinkin'. I mean look at that hair. Do you think he could try any harder to look like he doesn't try?" They laugh in unison. "Proper hipster looks, Li. Are you sure you swiped his phone on accident? Was this all a clever ploy to get to know him?"

Liam blushes red clear down to his chest,."Shove off, Lou, you arse." 

He snatches the phone back, looking down at the picture properly for the first time. They aren't wrong: Harry is Liam's type. His hair is brown and curly and he's got it pulled back with a scarf, which, for some reason works for him. His pants look like a second skin. His shirt hangs loosely and shows off hints of tattoos on his chest. Also, he’s got these big, piercing green eyes, and Liam wants to get lost in them. He clears his throat, looking up from the picture to find the boys smirking at him with their arms folded across their torsos. 

"He's so predictable," Louis snorts to Zayn, who just laughs and agrees. 

 

***

**From: Harry  
To: Liam**

_Having a good one, Liam? Haven't talked all day_

Liam glances at the clock. It’s only 2 PM, but maybe Harry's one of those rare uni students who gets up before noon on Saturday. 

**From: Liam  
To: Harry**

_Just woke up bout an hr ago. Having fun with ur family?_

**From: Harry  
To: Liam**

_Yeah they're great we went out to eat today to some seafood place whatever anyway I really like this picture of you_

 

Liam glares at his screen and can feel the heat on his cheeks. The picture's one from four years ago. Liam doesn't look anything like that anymore, and, honestly, it's just embarrassing to look at. Besides, he didn't even know it was on his phone. 

**From: Liam  
To: Harry**

_Thts sch an old 1 its probly on there bc I used it n a tbt or something god Im so embarrassed_

__**From: Liam  
** To: Harry  
__  
WAIT U WENT THRU MY PICTURES???  
**  
****From: Harry  
** To: Liam  
__

_You said make myself at home. Your phone is my phone you told me._

Liam sighs, defeated. He did say that, and it's not like he didn't tell Harry not to look at anything. 

**From: Harry  
To: Liam** __

_Why don't you just look through mine and even it up. Might find something you like ;)_

 

****

***

Liam doesn't pull the phone back out until he's lying in bed that night. It's funny how cut off from the world you can feel when you don't have the safety net of your own phone with all of your favorite games and social media accounts to bury yourself in.

Liam doesn't have missed calls or missed texts since everyone he really talks to spend most of their time at his flat (Zayn and Louis), and his mum's just taken to calling Zayn's phone instead if she absolutely needs to tell Liam something. In fact, by the time he does pull it out, there's only three texts from Harry. 

**  
**From: Harry  
To: Liam __

_Don't be mad, you donut. You're proper cute_

__**From: Harry  
To: Liam ** __

_If you shut me out it'll make exchanging phones on Monday weird_

The last text is just a picture of Harry pouting; he looks like he’s about to go work out with his hair pulled up in a tight bun on top of his head, like he put his day on hold to show Liam how pouty he could be. It has the corners of Liam’s mouth tugging up into a smile. That's when he decides to look through Harry's pictures, too. Maybe it's because Harry intrigues him; he reaches into Liam’s mind and gets intertwined there for hours at a time. Besides, Harry had looked through his. It’s his turn now. He swipes through all the apps (and there's so many fucking apps; seriously does this man not believe in organization?) and clicks on the button to scroll through the various albums Harry has. It’s endearing, to say the least, how many albums there are. What Harry clearly lacks in organizing his homescreen, he makes up for with his photos. There’s fifteen folders to go through, so he scouts out the safest one to start with.

He clicks on the one titled 'self' and finds himself scrolling through 352 pictures of Harry's face. Liam studies each one like it's the most important photo in the world. He studies the curve of Harry's lips first. They're pink and plump like they're on the verge of being puckered.

Liam gets through to the last one, a smile practically permanent on his face. He clicks on another album titled 'gem,' and he meets 146 pictures of Harry with a girl whose hair color changes every few scrolls. He assumes the girl is Harry's sister after seeing a few pictures of the two of them with Harry's mum (which Liam only knows because of the contact picture that popped up when Harry’s mum had called, and the matching set of dimples).

The next album Liam clicks on has a kitten as cover and about 50 pictures, but it's not titled so Liam's intrigued. When it opens, Liam goes to close it immediately. Harry has an entire album of pictures of his dick. 

Something stops him. Maybe it’s the way his heart is pounding a little harder, or it’s the way he has to shift in place on top of his sheets to urge himself to calm down that makes Liam opens one. It's black and white, which doesn't surprise Liam at this point. He swipes to the next one and slides his tongue over his bottom lip absently before biting down on it as he stares into his phone screen. Harry's got big hands (Liam noticed from a picture of Harry holding a bottle of cider where his hand engulfed the whole thing), and if Harry's hands are big, then... Liam swallows, imagining how big Harry’s dick must be in-person as he examines the picture of Harry holding himself firmly. 

In the next picture Liam stops on, Harry's got his foreskin pulled back. The head of Harry's dick is in focus, red and swollen, with a shine of precum just visibly leaking from his slit. Liam swallows again roughly, shifting the sweats he's wearing slightly as he feels himself stiffening. 

He's half-hard and 20 pictures in when the phone buzzes in his hand. 

**  
**From: Harry  
To: Liam __

_Hey grumpy_

**From: Liam  
To: Harry** __

_I'm not grumpy_

_****_From: Harry  
To: Liam __

_Oh is that why you stopped replying?_

Liam audibly groans at the thought of the person attached to the cock he just looked at for fifteen minutes teasing him through texts. 

**From: Liam  
To: Harry** __

_Looked through your pictures so we're even_

**From: Harry  
To: Liam** __

_Send me your favorite one_

__**From: Liam  
To: Harry** __

_Send me urs first_

He's fairly certain if he were to send the first picture that popped back into his mind and declare it was his favorite, Harry wouldn’t want to have anything to do with him anymore. 

**From: Harry  
To: Liam** __

_Did you know you only have five pictures of your body on here? Even less of your cock._

Harry attaches a cliche picture that Liam forgot was on his phone. He's lying in bed with nothing but his shorts on, his dick hard and prominent against the thin fabric. Liam nearly chokes on his spit. One day he'll be right about Harry. One day. 

**From: Liam  
To: Harry** __

_find those did u?_ ****

**From: Harry  
To: Liam** __

_Thought about having a wank to them_

The texts pulls a gasp from Liam’s throat just from the unexpectedness of it, making his grip tighten on the phone. He’s not as uncomfortable as he thought he would be discussing this topic with someone he doesn’t actually know. It’s oddly pleasant, actually. Harry’s soothing in a way that Liam can’t begin to describe. He tosses around a few replies in his head before raising the phone to his face to read Harry’s words to him again. Thought about having a wank to them. Harry’s so blunt and confident with himself that it sparks Liam to desire the same. So he types out his boldest thoughts, palms sweating only slightly as he presses send and burrows his head down into the pillow.

 **From: Liam  
To: Harry** __

_y didn't u?_ ****

**From: Harry  
To: Liam** __

_Wanted to wait for you to see mine._ ****

**From: Harry  
To: Liam** __

_Come on Liam show me your favorite_

Liam scrolls back through the album to find the picture of Harry's swollen head dripping in precum and sends it before he can second-guess himself, before he can talk himself out of jumping into whatever this is turning into with a man that he doesn't actually know. 

The phone buzzes again and it's another picture, but when Liam opens it, he can tell that it’s not his. He can see Harry's hand gripping the base of his dick, his cross tattoo prominent against the pale skin of his hand. Liam's dick twitches, causing him to press his hand down against it to relieve himself the slightest bit. It's not until Liam realizes that Harry had to have taken the picture on Liam's phone recently that his chub stiffens completely and a blush burns all the way down his chest. He places the phone on his chest and drags his hand down his torso until he can dip into the waist of his joggers in order to get a satisfactory grip on himself finally. 

**From: Harry  
To: Liam** __

_Did I overstep?_

Liam huffs, pumping himself slightly as he reads the text. He fumbles with the phone in his uncoordinated hand, points the camera somewhere near his crotch and sends it quickly. 

Liam drops the phone to his chest again and lifts his hips, wiggling out of his joggers. When the phone vibrates this time it's different than a text. The pulse is quick, almost meeting up with Liam's heartbeat. Harry's calling and Liam realizes he doesn't even know what the boy's voice sounds like. 

He answers hesitantly, swallowing around the lump in his throat, but his voice is still thick: "Hullo?"

"Wanted t’hear you," Harry says. His voice is slow and dragged out, which causes Liam to squeeze himself through the fabric of his boxers. He gasps involuntarily at the pressure. 

“There you go.” Harry’s so confident about the entire thing, like this isn’t something out of the ordinary. Maybe it isn’t for him. He hums softly into Liam’s ear.

Liam’s eyes are closed, just listening to the way Harry’s breath fluxuates. He can tell Harry’s touching himself, and it’s got Liam so painfully hard, but he hasn’t taken his dick out yet. He’s just squeezing himself, trying to figure out how he’s meant to hold a phone to his ear and work himself properly at the same time, when Harry speaks again, “Wanna know a--” his breath hitches slightly, “-- a secret, Liam?” 

And Liam just nods at first, like Harry can see him. “Uh, yea-- yeah.” He clears his throat. “Tell me.” His voice echoes slightly over the phone, like Harry has him on speaker so he can use both of his hands. Smart move, but Liam’s walls are too thin, and Zayn’s just on the other side.

“Wanked thinking about you last night,” Harry says simply, and Liam hopes he imagines the slick sounds of him pumping himself. Liam clamps the phone between his shoulder and ear as he reaches into his boxers now, pushing them down as he does so. 

“Yeah?” He manages to choke out as he drags his thumb against the slit peeking out from his foreskin before letting his dick rest against his abdomen as he removes his pants and boxers the rest of the way.

“Mmm,” Harry hums, breathing heavily on the other end. “Got myself wet for you.”

Liam wraps his fists around him finally, throwing his head back with a groan in response to the feeling. 

“So hard for you, Liam. Are you hard?”

He swallows for a moment, realizing he’s hardly said anything without stuttering over his words, “Been hard for a while, mate.” He chokes back a moan as his fist squeezes against the head. 

“Wanna hear you, babe.” Harry mumbles, drawn out and lazy. 

Liam pumps himself quicker, taking a glance at his bedroom door as he does so to check the lock. They fall quiet, only their jagged breathing filling the silence. Harry lets out a quiet gasp that causes Liam to full on moan into the receiver as his other hand moves across his torso, resting firmly on his stomach. He feels feverish, like there’s a fire rolling through his stomach and down his thighs, and the epicenter rests at the base of his cock. The heat covers his entire body as Harry coos at Liam’s moans that continuously slip through his lips.

“W-wanna hear you too,” Liam grunts, screwing his eyes shut so tightly that he can see dots behind his eyelids.

“Talk to me then, what are you thinking about?” Harry gasps out. “Wanna hear your sweet mouth be filthy.”

Liam honest to god almost comes right then. In fact, he has to reach down to grasp his balls in order to stop it. This boy, this stranger that he’s on the phone with right now is so bold. So confident in what’s happening. Like he’s known Liam for ages. Like this is something that they’ve done before. Liam gasps out a moan for Harry. “Thinkin’ ‘bout your lips stretched around me, could show y’how t’proper suck me off.”

“Gonna teach me Monday?” Harry asks and if Liam wasn’t seeing stars before, he is now. “Watch me drop to my knees and swallow you? That what you want, Li?” Harry stretches out a moan, and Liam can hear Harry shift around. 

Liam’s fist is a near blur on his own dick, his face blushed red at Harry’s words. “Yeah, w-want that.”

“What else?” Harry breathes out. Liam thinks Harry sounds close, but there’s no way for him to know.

He hesitates a bit, trying to run every dirty thing that’s ever been said to or around him through his mind until one stands out. There’s sweat on his brow, his bottom lip is chewed red, his toes are curling into the sheets, Harry’s gasping into his ear, and he can’t think straight. He can’t wrap his mind around something to say because this is something completely new to him. This is something that Liam’s never even thought to try with anyone he’s been with because Liam’s shy and insecure and definitely not bold enough for this, but Harry’s got him out of his shell and Liam blurts the next thing that comes to mind: “Wanna fuck you!” He gets another loud moan from Harry with a mumbled ‘fuck, fuck, fuck’ thrown in. 

“Want you to fill me up, Liam.” Harry grunts, and the noise from Liam’s lips mirrors it. “You want me on my hands and knees? That what you want?”

Liam’s shaking his head. He’s close and Harry’s just pushing him closer and closer. He slows his pace, and works the head gently. “No, wan’ you on your back.” He huffs a sharp breath, dragging the palm of his hand against his slit to slick it with his precum. “Wan’ you t’watch, too.” 

“Wanna open me up with your fingers?” Liam just hums in response, tossing his head back again. They fall quiet again, Liam’s heavy breaths echoing around the room. “Wanna ride your fingers like I’m riding mine righ’ now.” 

“Fuck, Harry.” He has to grip tighter again to keep himself from finishing, but Harry presses on.

“Got myself all slicked up, Liam. Opened myself up like I’m ready for your cock. Feels so good.”

Liam knows he’s close, too close. The muscles in his abdomen are tight and his thighs feel strained as he tries to hold off just a little longer. Just long enough so he can hear Harry. “Fuck down on ‘em like it’s me, wanna hear you,” Liam moans out, and he really doesn’t know where that line came from.

His words seem to be the only encouragement that Harry needs. He’s moaning and Liam’s biting his lip to fight back any noises that might drown out the way Harry sounds right now, in his bed, thinking about Liam as he fucks himself. “Gonna come, Li. I’m gonna -- you close?”

“Yea, m’close.” Liam’s free hand is cupping his balls, toying with them gently and thinking about how Harry’s face must look right now, twisted up in pleasure. “Keep goin’, babe. So good, you’re so good.”

“Never wanna stop, Liam, never --” He’s panting now, “feels so good --” a loud moan, “can’t wait to ride you, wanna ride you. Can I?” Harry’s words come between shaky moans and Liam can’t hold his own back anymore.

“Gonna fuck up into you, babe,” Liam says. “Bet you’re so fuckin’ tight.” 

Liam can almost feel Harry’s orgasm through the phone. Harry’s gasping loudly as it shakes through him, letting out a little whine that has Liam pumping faster and faster.

He’s so close; he just needs a little push. And it’s like Harry can read his mind because he lifts his phone up from wherever he had it sitting and takes it off speaker so that he’s talking directly into it. 

“Wanna hear you come, Li. C’mon then,” And there’s a teasing tone in his voice that has Liam’s eyes rolling back as his pumps his fist. “C’mon, babe. Finish for me.”

That’s the push. That’s what has Liam’s toes curling, his hips lifting off the bed and a long huffed moan falling from his lips. Everything goes dark for a moment, and all that he’s aware of is the feeling of himself spilling onto his torso.

After a moment, he comes to and opens his eyes to hear Harry saying, “I sent you something.”

Liam grabs the phone and thumbs the text open, moaning slightly at the sight of Harry’s stomach with his come in white stripes in contrast to the large, dark tattoo and his cock sitting still mostly hard in the bottom of the picture.

He fumbles slightly, trying to open the camera and angle it properly so he can send Harry a picture right back.

“So fucking fit,” Harry mumbles after a moment.

Liam just laughs, shaking his head as he grabs his boxers to clean himself off. He glances at the time. “One more day til we switch back, now.”

“One more day until I can suck you off,” is what he gets in return and he’d be lying if he said his dick didn’t twitch at the very thought.

 

****

***

“You are not permitted to fuck this boy tomorrow. Do you hear me Liam James?”

“Loud and clear, Lou,” he replies with a roll of his eyes. Liam wasn’t even thinking about that sort of thing. Honest. Except he kind of was. 

“I doubt we’ll even hang out or whatever. Just gonna switch phones and be on our separate ways.” Liam shrugs, trying to seem apathetic about the entire thing as if Zayn didn’t call him out over breakfast for being too loud while wanking. “Just be glad I didn’t have it on speaker,” Liam had shot back in his sleepy haze, causing Zayn to nearly choke on his sip of tea. Of course, Louis had known not even an hour later once Zayn finally parted from Liam to disappear behind his bedroom door.

“I mean it, Li. You’re weak for boys like his lot. You’ll be putty in his hands if you let him get ahold of you.”

“I get it, mum,” he snaps, shoving an arm out to push Louis off the couch’s armrest. He doesn't want to talk about Harry; doesn't want to be reminded that he is probably already wrapped around this guy’s finger, even though Liam doesn’t really know him. 

Mostly, Liam doesn’t want to think about how it’s already half-six in the evening, and he hasn’t gotten one text out of Harry the entire day. At first, Liam had thought maybe Harry didn’t always feel like starting a conversation, but when his good morning text went unanswered, and then his second text a few hours later went unanswered as well, Liam’s heart had sunk to his stomach.

It’s not like Harry would be able to never talk to him again; he’d have to make some kind of conversation to discuss where they’d meet the following day. Then he’d have to say something to Liam when they exchanged phones. But maybe he didn’t. Maybe Harry was the type of person that could do stuff like what they had done and then get over it immediately. Maybe Harry was the type who could shut someone out stone-cold and not take one glance back.

Liam’s never been that kind of person. He couldn’t walk away without glancing back a million times, and then he’d be lucky if he walked away at all. He could never do something with someone only to not talk to them later on. He could never let someone in, even the tiniest bit, just to shut them out. Maybe he and Harry were complete opposites and this entire thing had been a mistake. Maybe Liam should have kept his rule about not looking through Harry’s phone, or maybe he shouldn’t have even started talking to him after figuring out about the switch-up. Maybe none of this should have happened.

And there’s a small part of Liam that’s telling him he’s over-reacting, that Harry’s just busy and it’s not like they were anything close to exclusive. It’s not like they were anything more than slight acquaintances. Liam shouldn’t care so much about someone already. But maybe that’s Liam’s problem in the first place -- he cares. But he’s trying really hard not to right now.

“I‘m just going to go wherever and switch the phones. Honest,” Liam says.

Louis is eyeing him like he doesn’t quite believe him, but there’s also nothing he can do about whether Liam is telling the truth or if he’s lying through his teeth. So, he shrugs and pushes forward: “Are you still good for a pub crawl tonight?” Louis beams. “Just us lads!”

“It sounds so skeevy when you call it a pub crawl, but yeah ‘course. ‘m always down, aren’t I?” Liam says.

“That you are, m’boy!” Louis slaps a hand on Liam’s back before crossing the room to the kitchen. “Speaking of us lads, where’s Zayn?”

“Our dear friend Zayn is currently locked in his room working on some comic strip he forgot was due Tuesday or something. Said he figured he’d be done before seven, but it’s half six and he’s not emerged.” Liam turns his head to glance at Zayn’s door. “Should probably check on him.”

“Nah, just leave ‘im be. We’ll bug him before we get ready to go out. Don’t quite fancy gettin’ my head smashed in for interruptin’.”

 

****

***

Liam can feel the phone buzzing against his thigh, and he knows that it only means one thing. Harry’s finally texting him. But Liam’s got too much alcohol in his system to pretend that he’s not annoyed that Harry hasn’t replied all day, so he leaves the phone to sit in his pocket.

The original plan for the night was to hit up Louis’ favorite pubs, have a few pints, some chips and catch a bit of whatever sport was playing on the telly. What they ended up doing differed completely. Louis had dragged them to some club that Liam could feel vibrating from the curb. Every beat of every song pierced through him, and the liquor tasted sweeter than anything Liam’s ever had. So he drank, then he drank more, and then he drank even more. 

Louis had disappeared shortly after they go in. Liam swayed his body alongside Zayn, surprised that he’s managing to stay upright. Though, it could have to do with Zayn’s hands constantly gripping Liam’s waist as they move like he’s steadying Liam, like he’s there to keep Liam standing. He figures that’s the biggest metaphor for their friendship that he’s ever come across.

But the thing about consuming mass amounts of alcohol is that it often causes the incessant need to urinate. Since Zayn can't exactly help him with every issue, Liam finds himself standing alone, one hand pressed firmly against the wall in front of him and the other holding himself as he pees. He feels the phone vibrate again. It’s the fourth time since he's been out, and the part of him annoyed with Harry is getting overpowered by the part that kind of wants to hear Harry’s voice right now. 

Liam digs the phone out of his pocket after washing his hands, and fumbles with it until he gets to the messages so that he can read them.

**From: Harry  
To: Liam**

_Hey stud_

Then fifteen minutes later:

**From: Harry  
To: Liam**

_Are you busy?_

Then ten minutes after that:

**From: Harry  
To: Liam**

_Guess so. Or you’re ignoring me. My ego is going to go with you being busy though._

And then an hour after that:

**From: Harry  
To: Liam**

_Is it bad if I say I’ve missed you today?_

The next one comes in as Liam’s scrolling through the messages:

**From: Harry  
To: Liam**

_I got back into London tonight._

That’s all it says. The alcohol in his system stops him from hesitating. He presses the call button and presses the phone to his ear, leaning back against the wall. 

"Not ignoring me, then?" 

"Don't think I could if I tried," Liam slurs.

"I am very persistent." There's a pause between Harry’s words, but it's surprisingly not awkward. 

"Why'd'you come home early?"

"Are you not excited that we could potentially be just around the corner from each other?"

Liam hesitates for a moment. He had spent the weekend waiting excitedly to switch phones back so he could finally have his security blanket in his hands again. Then the last day or so he'd been excited just to see what Harry looks like in person and to maybe get a chance to spend some actual time with him. But now, now Liam's not sure if he is ready to switch back. If they switch back, this ends. Whatever this is. Liam just lets out a soft whine instead of a proper response. 

"Oh," Harry sounds sullen almost, like he’s taking it as something Liam doesn’t mean.

"'m drunk," Liam blurts out, following up with, "Wanna see you."

"Is this alcohol or Liam?" 

"Liam," He says with a huff. “Scout’s honor." He even holds his hand up in a salute of sorts, despite Harry not being around to see. 

"Where are you?"

Liam glances around his surroundings. "Bathroom of a club. Wanna be where you are, though." He curses himself silently for how cheesy the line is. 

Harry sighs into the receiver. "Wanna see you too, Li. Thought about you all day."

Liam squeezes his eyes shut, throwing his head back slightly until it hits against the wall with a thud. He’s weak for Harry -- for Harry’s voice that Liam’s only heard through the phone; Harry’s eyes Liam’s only ever seen through a screen; Harry’s jokes Liam’s only ever read through a text. Liam is wrapping himself around Harry's finger with no second guessing. 

"Wanna meet for food? Bet you could use something in your stomach."

Liam nods for a minute until he realizes Harry can't see him or hear the rattle of his brain. "Yes, yes. Just- um- tell me wherever."

"I'll text you the address, babe," Harry replies before hanging up. 

Liam stands very still for a moment, his phone still clutched in his hand and pressed against his ear like Harry will come back and say more words to him. 

He stands like that until it buzzes with a text. 

From: Harry  
To: Liam

_Just come here and text me when you're near_

It's followed up with another text that has an address in it. Liam presses his finger over it so that it opens in his maps. It's not far; he could probably walk it just fine. He pushes away from the wall, wobbling all the way to the bathroom door. Perhaps he'll stumble his entire way to wherever Harry is. 

****

***

Liam finds Zayn chatting up someone near the bar. He leans in, not caring about the other person at all. "I gotta go home, Zee." He lies.

Zayn's eyes fill with concern as he looks into Liam's face. "Alrigh', Li?" Liam nods slightly,. "I'll find Lou and we can get out of he--"

"No, you guys stay! We're only a few blocks from our flat. I can make it alone. You stay." He places his palm on Zayn's chest. "Stay. I go."

"Alrigh', Tarzan." Zayn laughs slightly, shaking his head. "You text me the mo’ you get home. I mean it, Liam James, don't make me worry."

"Wouldn't dream of it, Zee." Liam presses a wet kiss to Zayn's cheek, turns on his heel, and pushes his way through the crowd to get to the exit. 

****

***

**From: Liam  
**  
To: Harry

_think im here?_

Liam looks up from his phone; the address is right, but he’s standing just off campus, staring at a dormitory and not a place to meet up for food. His stomach twists nervously. This wasn't a good idea. 

**From: Harry  
To: Liam** __

_Down in a mo ___

__Liam's eyebrows furrow together, but he leans against the brick building anyway. Does he trust Harry? Obviously he does enough to let him lure him from his friends and to a run-down building. Enough that he's chosen to stand still and wait for him._ _

__The few mile walk and crisp autumn air did wonders on sobering Liam up, so it's not like he can blame his decision to stay on the mass amount of alcohol in his system. This is all him. This is Liam's choice because Liam is weak for guys named Harry who had switched phones with him at a party only four days prior._ _

__"Didn't think you'd be more fit in person," breaks through Liam's thoughts, causing him to jump slightly. Harry's walking towards him, but the area is so poorly lit that Liam can't really make out Harry’s features until he's only a foot away._ _

__He's tall. A few inches taller than Liam, and he has these long legs squeezed into a pair of tight jeans. He's got a beanie pulled over his messy hair and his shirt's opened clear to his navel. Liam's tongue slides against his lips subconsciously. Christ, he's beautiful._ _

__"You too," he mumbles in response. "Do you live here?"_ _

__Harry turns his head to look up at the building. "Yeah... um, wanted to get you some food but I left my wallet back in Holmes Chapel -- I know I'm the worst, first my phone then my wallet." Harry gives a boyish smile, his cheek dimpling with it. "Figured I could cook you something here, if that's not a problem?"_ _

__Liam can hear Louis' voice in his head, scolding him for even considering staying._ _

__"Yeah, sounds wicked," is what he says before Harry reaches out for Liam's hand and leads him through the building._ _

__****_ _

***

The dorm is larger than Liam’s expecting. When he lived in the dorms before moving with Zayn, his room had been two times smaller than the one he’s stood in now. “Do you share?” he asks, glancing to the extra bed.

“No, actually. Got placed in a double but never got a room mate. Lucky enough for the last two years, I suppose.” Harry laughs nervously, moving to push his unpacked bag from his bed. “Um, also. I hope noodles are okay..” He steps around Liam towards a coffee pot he has sitting on his desk. “The microwave’s busted right now so.. It’s all I can really make in here.” 

“How do you survive?” Liam asks with a laugh, clasping his hands together because he can’t figure out what to do with his arms. 

“Hardly here, if I’m honest. Spend most nights at my mate Niall’s flat. Movin’ there over winter holidays.”

Liam nods slightly, dragging his eyes around Harry’s walls to take in his decorations.

“Anyway,” Harry chimes. “Noodles?” Liam nods and gives him a smile which triggers Harry to start pouring a bottle of water into the coffee pot before opening two packs of noodles and dropping them in.

****

***

They’re sitting cross-legged with their knees bumping together on Harry’s bed, sharing a coffee pot full of chicken flavored super noodles. Harry’s giggling as Liam tries to slurp an extra long noodle into his mouth, and everything around them has settled into a comfortable place.

Harry’s fingers pinch the other end of the noodle, pulling it up to his own mouth and pressing his lips around it. Liam chuckles slightly; Harry’s beginning to slurp the noodle into his mouth as well, closing the distance between them as he does so. It’s cliche and it’s ridiculous, but Liam leans in all the same.

The kiss is quick; Harry bites the noodle just before their lips touch but not soon enough to stop it from happening altogether. Not that either of them complain about it. 

Harry presses his forehead to Liam’s as a gentle laugh slips from his lips, his arm moving the mug of noodles to the desk next to the bed instead of in-between them.

Liam closes the distance this time, resting his hands on either side of Harry’s waist to pull him in until their chests press against each other. Liam snakes his arms around Harry, holding him firmly in place before nudging the tips of their noses together. It feels innocent, naive almost. Acting like this, feeling giddy to be this close to someone -- it’s all so grade school, like having your first crush turn into your first boyfriend. 

Liam pushes his face forward, closing the distance between their lips. It’s gentle. Their lips move together in a synchronized fashion, soft and careful like neither of them are certain they’re meant to be doing this. Neither of them stop, though. Harry slides his hands to the back of Liam’s head, his fingers desperately trying to drag through the too-short hair there. He groans against Liam’s mouth when he can’t grip onto anything.

“Grow your hair out,” he mumbles, barely parting his lips from Liam’s. Liam just shakes his head, closing the distance again for another soft kiss. He lifts Harry up easily, pulling him onto his lap completely so his long legs drape around his torso. It’s a bit fumbled because Harry seems to be all legs and arms and Liam’s not quite sober. He tries not to tangle himself up in Harry while he leans Harry back on the bed, peppering kisses from his lips down to his neck.

Liam longs to earn the noises from Harry that he’d heard just the night before; his entire body aches for it, so he sucks a mark against Harry’s collarbone and then another on his throat. Harry dips his fingers under Liam’s waistband, pulling his hips down so they rut into his own.

They stay like that for a bit: Liam kissing at any patch of exposed skin he can secure his lips on, and Harry grinding his hips up until they catch on Liam’s and they both let out a sort of pathetic whimper. The only time Liam takes his lips off of Harry’s chest or shoulders or neck is when he presses them against Harry’s, causing them to mesh together in perfect unison.

“We were --” their lips press together again, “-- supposed to eat noodles,” Harry mumbles, his fingers fumbling with the button of Liam’s trousers.

Liam sucks another mark against Harry’s skin, running the flat of his tongue over it afterwards. “We can move back to that,” he mumbles, arching his back so he can leave a trail of kisses down Harry’s chest. “If you want to.”

Harry lets out a whine that makes Liam feel like he’s winning even though there’s nothing to be won. He just feels accomplished for earning that, for pulling that small noise from Harry. “Should -- we should,” Harry pants as Liam presses the heel of his palm down against Harry’s dick. 

“You sure?” A smug grin stretches across Liam’s lips as Harry lets a drawn-out moan slip from his lips, his hips lifting up to rut against Liam’s palm harder. Liam buries his face in the crook of Harry’s neck, pressing his lips against the skin there ever so gently as he palms at Harry.

“No --” Harry gasps. “I mean, yes -- yes I’m sure.” 

Liam pulls his hand back immediately before putting space between their bodies.

Harry lets out a soft laugh and leans up. “Don’t want you to be drunk is all,” he mumbles before pressing a kiss to Liam’s lips.

Liam returns the kiss, nodding. If he’s honest, though, being in Harry’s presence is more sobering than ten hours of sleep.

****

***

_“--I’m the man, yeah I said it. Bitch, I’m the man, don’t you forget it--”_

Liam buries his face further into the pillow he’s resting on, recognizing the ringtone as the one he’d set for Zayn ages ago. The only reason he’s not answering is because his head’s too busy pounding for him to deal with whatever’s come up for Zayn to be calling Liam before noon.

The phone silences for a moment only to go off again right after. Liam flings his arm to the nightstand, grabs the phone, and presses answer before he even gets it to his ear. “What do you want at this hour.”

It’s Louis’ voice that responds. “I fucking knew it. You are so predictable, Liam.”

“Lou, what are you talking about?” He rubs the back of his hand against his eyes, keeping them closed.

“What am I talking about? Are you kidding me or are you just daft?” Liam can hear Zayn shout at him in the background for the comment, to which Louis shushes him and turns his attention back to the phone call. “Are you safe?”

“Wha -- Why wouldn’t I be safe?” Liam yawns as he speaks. “‘m fine, Lou. Don’t know what the big deal is.”

“Well, excuse me for being worried that one of my best mates told us he was going home last night, while piss drunk. Promised to text Zayn when he got home and didn’t, and then when we show up here this morning he’s not even home.”

“Crashed at a friend’s.”

“You don’t have other friends, Liam. Did you have sex with him?”

Liam groans loudly, rolling onto his back. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“You answered your phone. _Your._ Phone,” Louis spits, and Liam knows he’s fucked up now. 

He tries an awkward laugh, pulling the phone away from his ear to confirm it’s the phone that Harry’s supposed to possess.“Nothing happened, stop mumming me, you wanker.” 

Harry shifts beside him, rolling so that his head drops against Liam’s chest. Liam lowers his voice slightly, “Look, I have to get out of here, alright? I’ll -- fuck. I’ll explain it all when I get home.”

“You’ve an hour to get here.”

“ _Louis_ ,” Liam spits through clenched teeth.

“See you soon, Li! One hour!”

****

***

Liam rises from the bed carefully to make sure he doesn't wake Harry. He's not exactly planning on sneaking out, honest, he's not. He doesn't even want to leave at all, but he's afraid of Louis and doesn't know what consequences lie behind not being back to his flat in the time he was allotted.

He scans the room for his shirt, finding it tossed haphazardly on the chair of a desk with his joggers not too far from. After pulling his clothes on, Liam looks for a piece of paper and a pencil to leave a note of some kind so Harry would at least know he doesn’t want to leave. It takes him five minutes to find paper, but he finally leans over the desk and starts scribbling a message. 

"Is that a 'it's not you it’s me and sorry I kissed you I just wanted my phone back' note?" Harry asks, his voice thick with sleep. "'Cause if so then don't write it."

Liam sighs and crumbles the paper up; telling him in person is better anyway. "'Course it's not. Though I did want my phone back." He cracks a smile that Harry returns. "I just have to get home. Don't think my friends are pleased with me abandoning them while I was drunk only to never show up at home."

"Did I get Little Leeyum in trouble?"

"A bit, yeah. Tommo's right scary, too. Not too keen on havin' the chat he's prepped for me." Liam crosses the room, leans over Harry on the bed. "I wanna see you again, though. Whenever you're free." He presses his lips against Harry's forehead before standing up straight. 

"So clingy! Just text me when your mum's done yelling at you." Harry's cheek dimples. "My number's in your phone as 'very fit bloke with my phone'. Thought it was fitting either way you looked at it."

Liam shakes his head. "If you had a bit more of a mean streak with a dash of dramatic flare I'd think you and Tommo would get along.”

"I've a mean streak! I can be a real jerk, probably."

"Alrigh', if y'say so." Liam glances down at his phone (his actual proper phone) to check the time before letting out a whine. "I've really gotta go, I'll text you. Promise."

****

***

Before Liam even gets the chance to twist his key in the lock, the door to his flat swings open and reveals an angry Louis standing on the other side.

"Well, it's about time you show up."

"It's been less than an hour, Lou," Liam mumbles as he pushes his way past Louis to flop onto the couch where Zayn's sitting. Liam wastes no time with stretching out, placing his head in Zayn's lap and his legs over the side of the sofa. 

Zayn's fingers find his hair, and when Liam looks up at him he's got an apologetic grin on his face, like he knows exactly what Louis is about to unleash on Liam. 

"Not less than an hour since you told Zayn you were going home! You didn't even tell us where you were, Liam! You could have been abducted! Do you know what kind of creeps roam the streets of London in the wee hours of the morning? Vulgar creeps! Proper nasty creeps and you could have been grabbed by one and no one would have been the wiser!"

Liam throws his arm over his face, burrowing it in the crook of his elbow, letting a long, dramatic sigh escape from his lips. "'s fine, innit?" he mumbles, squeezing his eyes shut as Zayn pets his hair gently. 

"He's right, Lou. You're being a little dramatic. He's home now and stayed safe last night." Zayn pulls Liam's arm back, looking him in the eyes. "You were safe, right?"

Liam groans again, which sets Louis off on another tangent. "He better hope he was safe! I swear Liam you can be so- so-" Louis fumbles on his words a bit. "You’re so daft sometimes!"

If there's one thing Liam gets sick of when it comes to Louis, it's when Louis takes his scolding too far; it’s when he digs down and pokes at the things Liam is insecure about, the things about himself that make him feel less of a person. His body tenses at it, his fist clenching tightly. 

"You know what, Lou?" Liam spits, pulling himself into a seated position and narrowing his eyes at Louis. "I'm sick of you always trying to mum me like I'm not a grown man." He's off the couch in a few seconds, crossing the room to jab a finger in Louis' chest. 

"I'm not daft. I can make my own bloody decisions and you don't always get to have a fucking say in it. So just back off." Liam pushes at Louis’ shoulders. “Is that clear, mate?” he inquires, taking a step back from his friend.

“I just care about you, Li.,” is all Louis sighs, visibly softening as he pushes past Liam to sit next to Zayn on the couch. “I worry about you. We both do.”

“Don’t bring me into this. I trust Liam to make his own choices. My only complaint was that he never told me what he was doing,” Zayn adds, pointing a finger to Liam. “You’re the one that goes all wild about it, Lou.”

Louis shrugs, folding his arms across his chest. “Well someone has to.”

“No, you don’t. I have a mum! And she knows I’m an adult.” Liam huffs, “Can’t you just let me live? Why don’t you trust me to make my own choices?”

“What? Liam, I do trust you! It’s everyone else I don’t trust.”

Liam rolls his eyes. “Why don’t you trust anyone?”

“Because you trust everyone, Liam! You just blindly trust people and that’s not safe.”

“Harry is safe. You don’t even know him.”

“Neither do you. Just be careful. That’s all we want.” There’s a slight pause. “All I want,” he corrects.

Zayn stands and moves to Liam, resting his hands on Liam’s shoulders and rubbing gently. “Look, I think you’re both being over dramatic and need to relax, okay? Liam, you understand why we were upset, right?” 

Liam pauses for a moment, then nods. 

“And Louis you understand that Liam can make his own choices even if you disagree with them?” Louis nods curtly. “Superb. Now shut up.”

Liam sighs slightly, shaking his head and crossing to his bedroom as his phone buzzes against his thigh. “I’m taking a nap since I got woken up way earlier than I wanted.” 

He doesn’t check his phone until his bedroom door is shut.

**From: Harry  
To: Liam** __

_Did I get you in trouble?_

 

Liam laughs, shaking his head and plopping onto his mattress.

**From: Liam  
To: Harry** __

_A bit but it’ll blow over. Tommo’s just over protective I guess. Its just cos he doesnt know u_ ****

**From: Harry  
To: Liam** __

_Are you asking me to meet your mum? ___

__Liam’s not certain why this joke makes his chest tighten up. It’s strange because he’s barely known Harry for a week, but the thought of taking him to Wolverhampton and showing him off to his parents doesn’t feel like the worst thought he’s ever had. Louis would kill him for even thinking about it and Harry only meant it as a joke, so Liam counters carefully._ _

__**From: Liam  
To: Harry** ___ _

___Haha! Don’t know if ur ready to step into this flat, honestly._ ****_ _

__**From: Harry  
To: Liam** ___ _

___If it means being around you then I’m more than willing to try._ _ _

__Liam just sends him a quick :) before fighting his way out of his clothes and dropping back onto the bed. He’ll slag work off for the night and deal with the consequences tomorrow;, right now, he just needs to sleep for as long as his body will allow him to. Then he’ll have to get up, deal with whatever he’s got going on with Louis, and hopefully by the time that happens his hangover will be long gone._ _

__It doesn’t take long after pulling the blankets up around his chin for him to doze off, feeling too cold and wishing he had a certain body to wrap himself around._ _

____

*******

He wakes up to Louis sitting down at the edge of his bed with a sad look on his face.

“All right?” Liam asks because even if Lou drives him fucking insane he hates to see anything but a smile on him.

Louis lets out a sigh and climbs up Liam’s bed until they’re lying next to each other. “It kills me to say this, Li,” He starts, staring up at the ceiling. “But I’m sorry.”

Liam laughs and shakes his head. “Sorry I couldn’t hear that. Can you repeat it?”

“ _I said_ ,” Louis spits, “I’m sorry for, you know, being so hard on you about everything.”

“There must be something in my ear, hold on.” Liam tugs on his ear, rubs his hand over it and leans in closer to Louis. “Replay.”

“I honestly loathe you, Liam James.” But Louis announces it with a smile and slings his arm over Liam’s shoulder so he can pull him into the embrace. “I worry about you too much, I guess. You’re too special for me not to, Li.”

Liam offers up a genuine smile, wrapping his arm around Louis’ smaller frame. “I know I am.” He teases and everything feels light between them again, like it always does. They weren’t the type of friends that fought; they hardly ever got upset with each other. But if they did, it’d be solved before either of them could remember why they had gotten mad in the first place. That's how they'd been ever since Zayn introduced them to each other all those years ago. That's probably how it'll stay for as long as they live.

Liam's phone breaks the silence from his pile of clothes on the floor. 

"That lover boy, then?" Louis quips, raising his eyebrow questioningly. 

"Probably." Liam sighs, rolling over so he can get up. "Wanted to see him again today when I was sobered up,” he adds as he crosses to his phone, reading the text and chewing his lip. 

**To: Liam  
From: Harry** __

_The noodles dried in my coffee pot and now I'll never get it clean_ ****

**To: Harry  
From: Liam** __

_Hey I offered to go back to eating them, mate_ ****

**To: Liam  
From: Harry** __

_excuses!_

"So when do I get to meet him?" Louis asks and sends a smirk in Liam’s direction. “Bet Zayn wouldn’t mind taking a look at him either.”

Liam lets out the most dramatic groan he can muster before dropping down to sit on his floor with his legs crossed. “I don’t know, Louis. We only just met ourselves.”

“Hey,” Louis starts, shrugging from where he lays in Liam’s bed. “I’m not sayin’ you gotta bloody marry the bloke, but what harm could it be gettin’ the lads together?”

**To: Harry  
From: Liam** __

_Are you busy tonight?_

Liam gives Louis a shrug as a response, figuring he can’t be too wrong about this. Besides, maybe it’s only been like four days since Liam and Harry learned about each other’s existence, but it feels like it’s already been months. Maybe it's learning about each other through having the phone mix up or maybe they're just connected like that already. He keeps Louis’ words in his mind, though. Words that told him he is weak for Harry’s type. Words that told him he has a pattern. But everything about Harry makes Liam feel like he can break that pattern. Like something can proper work out with them if they both want it to. He wants them to both want to.

“It’d be a right laugh, even if it all went downhill,” Louis adds after Liam’s silence. “He can even bring a friend along to diffuse it a bit, yeah?” Liam can’t help but smile a bit at Louis’ change in tone towards Harry and the situation in general. It shows that he really is sorry for acting how he had earlier in the day.

**To: Liam  
From: Harry** __

_Going out with Niall, I think.. Could cancel if you wanted to come back over?_ ****

**To: Harry  
From: Liam** __

_No, no don’t cancel it’s alright._

“We’ll have to work something out, find a day where we’re all free or summat,” Liam finally adds, turning his head to look over his shoulder at Louis.

“Guess tonight’s not the best since we close the pub alone.” 

Liam curses under his breath, having been fully prepared to not show up to his shift. But Louis was right; it was their night to close the small pub on their own, and there was no way that he could make Louis deal with all of that by himself. “Guess not.”

**To: Liam  
From: Harry** __

_If you say so! What’re you up to?_ ****

**To: Harry  
From: Liam** __

_Ive work in an hr or so. I forgot til tommo reminded me literally just right this mo_ ****

**To: Harry  
From: Liam** __

_But maybe u guys culd come by the pub we work at? I mean you dont have to. Itd just b kinda cool.. Could probably get you a free pint or two._ ****

**To: Liam  
From: Harry** __

_We’ll see xxxxxx_

*******

“Will you calm down, Li?” Zayn begs, reaching across the bar and placing his hand over Liam’s to stop him from nervously rubbing a hole through the wood. “It’s clean, I promise.”

The pub is dead right now. It’ll probably stay dead for another few hours, but Liam isn't complaining at all. He needs it to be quiet because for some reason he's panicking just thinking about Harry showing up to visit him at work tonight. Will he kiss Harry? Will Harry expect that? Are they going to be the type of people who kiss when they see each other and when they say goodbye or is that taking it too far? Is Harry worrying about this type of stuff too or is Liam alone with his thoughts? 

He takes a deep breath, leaning against the bar with his head in his hands.

“Why so stressed out, Payno?” Louis chimes, pulling a water bottle from the fridge below the bar and sliding it in Liam’s direction.

“I told Harry that he and Niall should stop by,” he mumbles, laying his face down on the bar. “Now I don’t know if they’re going to or what I’ll do if they actually show up.”

“Well, what did he say when you told him?” Zayn asks, rubbing his hand comfortingly against Liam’s arm. 

Liam just reaches into his back pocket and unlocks his phone, pulling up the text thread with Harry. He slides it across the bar towards Zayn.

Zayn reads over the text, smirking a bit. “It seems hopeful.” He holds the phone so the screen is facing Liam, and points at the text. “The x is a kiss, by the way.” Zayn laughs and Liam looks up at him with furrowed brows, snatching the phone back. 

“Yes, Zee, I know it is. Thank you.”

“Alrigh’, Payno. None of this sass, I won’t condone it.”

“That's rich,” Liam mumbles again, burrowing his face in his arms.

Louis places his hands soothingly on Liam’s shoulders, rubbing gently as he speaks: “Listen, you can’t sit here stressing out over if this guy shows up or not. If he does, then that’s great and I’ll even let you leave from back here and sit with him if you want to. If he doesn’t? That’s great because I can’t afford to let you leave from back here and sit with him if you want to.” 

Zayn laughs again, and Louis gives him an appreciative look,he always does love it when someone finds him amusing. “Point being, if Harry does or does not show up, it’s not the end of the world.”

Liam lets out a sigh, knowing that they’re right, that he’s letting his anxious ways get the best of him. He straightens up, leaning a bit into Louis’ touch as he does so. “I know, I know.” He worries his bottom lip for a moment before pushing away from the bar and making his way towards the back kitchen. “It’ll be fine,” he adds but it’s more-so to try and convince himself rather than anyone else.

*******

It’s been four hours, thirty-three minutes and roughly forty seconds since his shift started (not that he’s counting), and there’s still no sign of Harry. No texts, or calls or tall curly-haired boys stepping through the front door. Liam still can’t pinpoint why exactly he’s feeling so anxious about this. It’s not like he is introducing his boyfriend to Zayn and Louis for the first time; Harry is just a bloke. A right fit bloke with a sparkling personality who knows how to make Liam smile in the most simple ways, sure, but still just a bloke.

That’s all Liam is to Harry too, he’s sure. Just a bloke that switched phones with him. A one off or summat. Liam has no understanding of where this whole thing is taking them, but it isn't like he expects it to blossom into anything besides a quick shag and maybe a decent friendship.

Maybe they could meet for coffee between classes, or go out to grab actual food together. That’s what Liam thinks he wants. Just a chance to spend time with Harry and really get to know him. Maybe they can do that one day. If that’s what Harry wants too.

There’s a low whistle from the other side of the bar, and even though Liam has his back to the noise he knows it’s Zayn trying to get his attention. It is a thing they do--pounding beats of songs into doors as they wait or humming a tune until the other gives their attention where it belongs. It turned into a type of game that they’ve played for years. If the receiver of the sound can guess the song, they get a day off of dishes duty. Liam almost never loses unless Zayn plays dirty and catches him when he’s tired. But he isn’t tired right now, and he recognizes the rhythm to the song immediately. 

“That’s a proper tune, that is,” Liam chimes, grabbing his bar towel and tossing it over his shoulder as he finishes up the game. “That's ‘I Can’t Feel My Face,’innit? That Weeknd tune-” He hums a bit himself, deciding to bust out into the chorus: “- _I can’t feel my face when I’m with you_ ,.” He makes the notes unnecessarily high, but hits them all the same. “ _But I looooooove it_.” He’s got a wide smile on his face by the time he finally turns to the bar to see what it is that Zayn wants.

“Wow, I didn’t know you could sing,” Harry exclaims as Liam turns to see him sitting next to Zayn at the bar.

“Oh, yeah, Li actually made it through X-Factor once. Made a bit of the way in, too. Got told he was too young, just never went back, though,” Zayn replies. 

Louis pipes in then, stepping out of the back kitchen: “Are you Harry, then? Right, you’ll have to YouTube some of the videos of young Liam singing his heart out. Really is talented. The fedora he wore just amplified it.”

"We've all made some mistakes, Mr. Red Trousers, and I want no lip from you, Blond Streak," Liam demands, jabbing a finger in Zayn's direction. 

"Mate, the blond streak was a Look™ and you know it," Zayn retorts, but Liam ignores him in favor of turning his attention to Harry. 

"Didn't think you'd make it,” he smiles, staring at Harry's face for only a moment too long. "Um, that's Zayn, and the annoying one is Louis."

Harry manages to pull his gaze away from Liam long enough to turn his attention to the other boys as they exchange pleasantries. "This is Niall, by the way. I'm right awful at introductions." He laughs, his eyes twinkling as he does so and Liam can't help but stare at him as the other boys introduce themselves. 

"The rude puppy is Liam, which I'm sure you know," Louis laughs, patting Liam on the back and snapping him out of his daze. "You'll have to excuse him. Easily distracted."

Niall barks a laugh and points his thumb in Harry's direction. "This one, too, mate. Don't know how 'm meant to get anything done wit' the likes of 'im around."

That’s the moment, Liam thinks, that he sees Louis' eyes glisten as he permanently accepts Niall into his life. 

"Right, anyway," Liam interjects before Louis can execute anything too dangerous to their new friends. "Pints on me, lads? Job perks, honestly. 's why Zayn camps out here whenever Tommo and I close."

“Can’t say no t’a pint, mate.” Niall beams, slapping his hand on Zayn’s shoulder like he’s known him for ages before dropping into a stool near him. 

 

****

***

They somehow stumble into a rhythm, the five of them, like they were always meant to sit around together at a pub and chat shit about whatever comes to mind first. Liam learns that Niall and Harry met for the first time in the States while traveling in sixth form, and that Niall fancies patterned socks more than anybody else Liam’s ever met. (He had pulled his foot out at that point in the conversation in order to show off the pineapple socks he’d worn tonight).

He learns more about Harry too, like that he used to be a baker and that he’s double majoring in Sociology and Photography at Uni. With every new word from Harry’s mouth, Liam finds himself leaning further and further towards Harry, like he’s trying to be the only one Harry’s talking to, like he wants this conversation for himself. 

Then Niall chimes in with a story about football, which has Louis proper buzzing about the place. Liam just feels settled in this moment, the stress and nervousness he felt earlier in the evening completely gone from his system. He’s reveling in the fact that the air between all of them feels so comfortable, feels like it’s always meant to be shared. It feels safe. Liam likes safe.

“I’ve a question, Liam,” Harry hums, leaning over the bar and distracting Liam from the animated conversations happening about sports. 

“I’m sure I’ve an answer, Harry.”

Harry’s cheeks dimple as he shakes his head. “I’m sure you do.” He places both of his hands flat on the bar’s surface, his fingers tapping rhythmically against the wood. “Does this fine establishment possess a loo, by chance?”

“It does, indeed. Best loo in all of London, I do believe.” Liam lets out a gentle laugh and pushes away from the bar, jerking his head in the direction of the bathroom to tell Harry to follow him. 

“Might’ve lied about it being swanky, but it’ll do you,” Liam says as he pushes a door open and flips a light on. He lets his eyes skim the walls and floor; it really isn’t dirty. He made sure of that, but there’s so much writing on the walls you can’t tell what the original walls look like. And the mirror is a bit broken. And if you don’t jiggle the handle for the sink properly, it won’t give you the full water pressure.

“Might’ve done so, yeah.” Harry laughs, gliding past Liam through the doorway. “I’ve another question.” 

When Liam’s eyes finally fall back on Harry, he’s met with a devilish grin.“What’s that, then?”

Harry takes a few steps towards Liam, his face twisting into an expression of pure determination. He grabs at Liam’s hands, pulling him into the bathroom and locking the door behind them. “Ever been sucked off in here?” he asks, his voice low and raspy like Liam remembers it being on the phone.

“Um.” Liam swallows, trying to stare anywhere but Harry’s face. “N-no. Can’t say I have, actually.”

 

****

***

Liam’s got a fist full of Harry’s hair, and Harry’s got a fist full of him. He’s trying to retain the thoughts of ‘ _You really shouldn’t be doing this_ ’ or ‘ _This is your workplace, please stop_ ’ in his mind, but every time Harry’s lips press against his, his mind is wiped clean and he has to start all over again.

But starting over again is useless because it feels like it takes hours to get from ‘ _Holy shit holy shit holy shit holy fucking shit_ ’ to ‘ _You shouldn’t be doing this_ ,’ and Liam just doesn’t have that kind of time.

Their skin is barely touching, but everywhere it does feels like it’s on fire, like Harry reached inside of Liam and lit something that he doesn’t know how to diminish. Harry’s lips burn a trail down Liam’s neck as his hand ventures further down the front of Liam’s boxers, tightening his fingers around the length of Liam’s cock as he does so.

Just the added pressure is enough to force an embarrassing moan from Liam’s kiss-swollen lips. The sound only encourages Harry, who dips his lips against Liam’s collarbone and sucks a spot red before trailing more love bites up his neck.

Liam’s fingers trail against Harry’s waistband, dipping slightly and tugging Harry’s hips closer until they rut up against Liam’s. “Thought you asked me about getting sucked off?” Liam croons, burying his face in Harry’s neck so he can press open mouthed kisses to the skin there.

“‘m gonna, pushy.” Harry laughs, reaching down and unbuttoning his own jeans after allowing Liam to struggle on it for a moment. 

Liam ignores the blush that stretches down his neck, and instead chooses to back Harry against the wall across from them, pushing their hips together as he does so. “Can’t help it,” Liam pants, working his hips in a slow grind against Harry’s. 

Liam pushes his trousers down a bit, struggling again with Harry’s jeans. They’re like a bloody second skin.He ignores the laugh that escapes Harry’s lips as their jeans drop to the floor, and instead rolls his hips roughly against Harry, causing a whimper of sorts to slip from Harry’s lips instead. It brings a cocky smirk to Liam’s lips and he does it again. Then again and again. He can feel Harry hard against him and Liam’s right there with him. 

It’s easy enough, with how they’re standing, for Liam to push their boxers down just enough to free their cocks and slide them together. That gets a moan from Harry, low and raspy, and Liam swears he almost comes at that. Then Harry’s sliding his hands up the back of Liam’s shirt and dragging his nails back down until his hands can dip into the back of Liam’s boxers, gripping his arse and pulling him closer.

Their moans collide between them as they slide together just right, but it’s nowhere near what Liam needs in this moment, and with the way Harry’s trying to pathetically rut up against Liam, he knows it’s not what Harry needs either. 

“Wanna try something,” Liam whispers, fitting a hand between the two of them. “Gotta be quiet.” His lips crash against Harry’s, tugging at his plump bottom lip when he pulls away.

Liam presses his forehead to Harry’s as he wraps his hand around the both of them, pressing their cocks together and pumping slowly. 

He feels Harry’s body shiver at that moment, his eyes falling shut. “Jesus- _fuck_ ," he breathes, and that cocky smirk is back on Liam’s lips in an instant. 

“Shh,” Liam hums, pressing his lips to Harry’s again, but it’s all a facade. The last thing Liam wants right now is not to hear Harry’s sounds. He pumps faster, his hips moving with the rhythm as well.

“E-excuse me, Liam,” Harry spits, his hips trying their best to pump up into Liam’s fist as well. “You shh.” Harry’s hands flatten against the wall for support before moving to Liam’s shoulders, his fingers curling around them. Harry lets out another moan, drawing it out as his head tilts back to bump against the wall.

Liam wants more though, more sounds, more noises. He pumps his fist, tightening his grip slightly. “Do you like that?” he asks, and maybe it sounds like dirty talk, but Liam’s genuinely curious, wanting to know if he’s doing alright.

Harry nods, burying his face in Liam’s neck. “Do I-” Liam twists his fist on the next stroke and Harry’s knees shake slightly. “ _Liam_ , fuck,” he groans, panting against Liam’s neck.

Liam likes that a little too much, twisting his fist again and letting out his own low groan. “Again,” he whimpers, worrying his lip between his teeth. “My name- say it again.”

Harry’s hands fist in the fabric of Liam’s shirt as they both fuck up into Liam’s fist. “Y-You’re insufferable,” Harry pants, a hint of a laugh in his voice. He lets out a drawn-out groan as Liam slides his thumb against his slit. “ _Li_.” Good enough.

Their lips collide again, feverish and needy like they’ll die if they stop kissing. They might, Liam thinks, and he’s not willing to risk it. Their lips barely part until Harry’s throwing his head back with a loud moan.

“‘m close, Liam, so fucking-” He moans again, looking at Liam’s face. “So close."

Liam pulls his hand away, dropping to his knees and dragging Harry’s boxers down as he does so. He takes Harry in one swallow, the tip of Harry’s cock resting at the back of his throat as his tongue manages to swipe at the base. He pulls off mostly, leaving just the head in his mouth and swirling his tongue around it. He spreads his hands out against Harry’s hip bones, pressing them to his tattoos to hold Harry back from pumping into Lhis mouth. 

Harry has one hand covering his mouth, muffling whatever words he’s crying out as Liam takes him in fully again. He slides his mouth off, only to put it right back on Harry’s cock and bob his head painfully slow, glancing up through his lashes at Harry, watching him come undone above him. 

Harry’s hands are hovering, like he’s not sure where he’s allowed to touch, and Liam just wants to let him know he can touch anywhere he wants. He slides his hand up Harry’s shirt, tracing the ridges in his abdomen as he does so, he can feel the muscles tighten like Harry isn’t going to last much longer. Liam drops his other hand to his own neglected cock, pumping himself quickly as he watches Harry go from coming undone to looking proper wrecked. He’s right about Harry being close because Harry starts panting, his legs shaking and his hand desperately reaches for Liam’s, their fingers lacing together.

“I’m- _fuck, Liam_ \-- I’m gonna, I’m-” 

Liam just replies by taking Harry all the way down his throat as Harry’s body relaxes and his come fills Liam’s mouth. The noises Harry makes are obscene. He’s panting and groaning as he finishes, and then there’s another, longer drawn out moan as Liam slides his tongue over his slit. Liam’s lips come off of Harry’s cock with a comedic pop, and he sucks in a deep breath that turns to a low moan as his fist blurs over himself. 

“So--” Liam pants, “fucking hot.” He’s nearly desperate to come, close enough that he can get himself off with just a few more pumps; however, Harry seems to have other plans. He reaches down, tugging on Liam’s arms until he obliges by standing up. Harry’s mouth crashes against Liam's, his tongue lapping against Liam’s desperately. Then Harry’s gone, and Liam’s confused until he feels the warm wetness of Harry’s mouth sliding over him. He’d look down to see Harry’s lips stretched obscenely over him, but he’d also like to last for more than two seconds.

Harry, bless him, tightens his lips around Liam’s head as his tongue swirls against it, and he’s moaning like he’s getting pleasure just from having Liam heavy on his tongue. 

Liam leans forward a little, stretching one arm above Harry to brace himself against the wall while his other hand tangles itself in Harry’s hair. “ _Christ_ ,” he hums, pumping his hips with no control. Harry loves it though, lowers his hands from Liam’s hips and places them behind his back like he’s asking Liam to fuck his mouth. Liam does, slowly at first to test the waters until Harry lets out a long groan, sending vibrations against Liam’s cock. He fucks into Harry's mouth, still being mindful of how fast and far he’s going.

He thought he couldn’t last much longer, but each moan coming from Harry, showing that he is enjoying giving just as much as he had enjoyed receiving, has Liam just growing harder and harder in Harry's mouth. Then Harry brings his hands back to grip Liam’s ass, pulling him in as close as he can and suddenly Liam’s cock is sitting in the back of Harry’s mouth and Harry is swallowing around him.

He could die from this, he thinks, or go blind from pleasure. It couldn’t be healthy to have something feel this bloody brilliant in a pub bathroom. His fist tightens in Harry’s hair as he cries out, “ _Oh, fucking-- God, Harry._ ” He blurts, pumping one last time into Harry’s mouth, “I’m gonna come, babe, I’m--” Harry swallows around him again and Liam’s vision goes black while he empties his load and then for a few moments after that.

Liam is still panting when Harry rises from his knees, pulling his boxers and jeans up as he stands. Harry slides the back of his hand over his lips and gives Liam a dimple-filled smile. “Think they’ve noticed we’re gone?”

Liam’s just standing there, staring at him in awe with his jeans and boxers around his ankles. He lets out a quiet laugh, fixing his clothes and shaking his head. “Tenner says they’re still going on about footie.”

“You’re fucking on.” Harry tugs on the front of Liam’s shirt to pull him closer, their lips meshing together in perfect harmony, their tastes mingling in each other’s mouths. “Better get out there and find out.”

Liam rests his hand against Harry’s cheek, stroking his thumb against his face slightly. “Guess so,” he mumbles, his eyes bouncing around Harry’s face. There’s so much to this boy, Liam doesn’t know if he’ll ever have him figured out.

****

***

They get back to the bar to find Louis and Niall still bickering about different football clubs, which club is better, and what players don’t deserve the limelight, and whatever else. Liam isn’t paying attention. He’s watching how Harry’s lips twist into a smile every time every time their eyes catch.

Zayn catches Liam’s eyes after a while, raising his dark eyebrows before glancing between him and Harry. Liam just shrugs and gives Zayn a smile in return, pouring up a drink for someone else leaning against the bar. Zayn seems to accept it, turning to slap Niall on the shoulder and lead the conversation into something more group friendly.

****

***

The weeks turn to months. Before Liam can catch his breath it’s October, and the leaves are descending from the trees, and Harry’s starting to look like something permanent.

It’s easy from the first night at the pub, just like Liam felt it would be. They fall into a routine, the five of them, each person playing a new part in the others’ lives. It’s as simple as breathing. Like 1, 2, 3. Like A, B, C.

It’s harder to get them separated than it is to get them together. Niall makes his way over at least once a day, and some weeks it feels like Harry never leaves. Liam doesn’t mind; it’s the opposite, in fact. It’s something he looks forward to, something he needs in his day to day life. Mornings are bleak if he doesn’t wake up to Harry’s mop of hair in his face, and evenings drag on if Harry isn’t there to tangle his feet with under the table at dinner. 

On nights he doesn’t sleep over, Harry meets Liam before their morning classes to get coffee and a muffin. On weekends he begrudgingly goes on Liam’s morning runs with him, lagging behind (just barely, bless his long legs for taking him so far) and complaining about his hair falling in his face until Liam changes course to a drugstore and buys him a package of bobbles to tie his hair back.

There’s nothing there though, Liam thinks. Because they aren’t exclusive and they haven’t talked about it at all, and if Harry slips between Liam’s sheets and curls against his body to sleep then that’s just another part of them. It doesn’t mean anything. It never does. Not to Harry at least, Liam thinks.

He’s stretched out on a couch in the library, not really studying for the huge midterm he has coming up, but trying his best to seem like he is. It’s just that it’s a Sociology test and he’s an English literature major with an interest in Music. He has no idea what the fuck he’s even doing in this class. All he knows is that putting it off until his last year was a dumb choice. 

His teeth clamp down on the pencil in his hand and he chews for a moment, reading a passage in his book. And then rereading it. He loses his place, then he flips to the next page when his patience runs out. He starts all over with a new paragraph. He’s a sentence away from giving up and going home when his phone vibrates.

**To: Liam  
From: Harry** __

_Hey stud_ ****

**To: Harry  
From: Liam** __

_save me_ ****

**To: Liam  
From: Harry** __

_Save you? Where are you?_ ****

**To: Harry  
From: Liam** __

_library. soc midterm. send help. not guna last much longer… i can c the light_ ****

**To: Liam  
From: Harry** __

_Sounds serious. I might want to come see you before you pass away._ ****

**To: Harry  
From: Liam** __

_no haz its 2 dangerous… save urself…. ill be ok….._ ****

**To: Liam  
From: Harry** __

_Liam you realize I’m a Sociology major, don’t you? Why don’t I just come help you?_ ****

**To: Harry  
From: Liam** __

_2 late im dead_ ****

**To: Liam  
From: Harry** __

_I’m on my way, dork. Do you want some coffee?_ ****

**To: Harry  
From: Liam** __

_iced caramel macchiato since ur offering_

****

***

Liam hears Harry before he sees him, a mess of limbs trying to maneuver his way through the sea of students scattered around the library, a mumbling cloud of ‘Excuse me’ and ‘I’m so sorry’ and ‘Oh my god I didn’t mean to step on your foot.’ Liam could recognize Harry’s voice anywhere with its slow drawl and monotonous tone. Harry has the type of voice that could keep you warm on the coldest winter nights.

Liam pulls himself into a seated position, offering Harry a wide smile before making room for him on the couch.

“All right?” Harry asks, sitting the coffees down on the table next to Liam before leaning over and pressing a quick kiss Liam’s lips.

And Liam isn’t used to that, the casualness of it. Their kisses are usually kept quiet, not even shown in front of their best mates, but here Harry is, kissing him for the whole library to see. Liam doesn’t want to think about what it could mean. He doesn’t have time.

 

“All right,” Liam replies, picking up his coffee and taking a slow drink from the straw. “You?”

Harry shrugs and drops onto the couch, pressed completely against Liam’s side; they relax into it. “‘m all right. Missed you a bit, don’t think I quite like studious Liam.”

There’s a chuckle from Liam as he slings his arm around Harry’s waist and uses his other to balance his text book in his lap. “Studious Liam’s got to get at least a 93 percent on his midterm. Might want to get used to him.”

“Well,” Harry hums, eyes scanning over Liam’s textbook for a split second before flipping it shut and pulling it away. “What can you tell me about Ethnocentrism?”

“That’s like, um.” Liam furrows his eyebrows together, chewing on his lip. “‘s like judging other cultures based off of yours. Bit like thinking your culture’s better than others, innit?”

Harry’s lips stretch into a wide grin, nodding and moving on to the next question. “How would you define a subculture?”

“That one’s easy,” Liam laughs, smiling over at Harry. “A group that’s part of the dominant culture but differs in some aspects. And before you ask, counterculture goes against the dominant culture.”

“Very nice! I thought you said you were dying over here, then I come to rescue you and you’re showing me up.”

“No, no, no.” Liam laughs, shaking his head and reaching for his coffee again. “You just happened to ask me the definitions to the terms I can remember.”

“Fine, let’s step it up then.” Harry flips open the textbook, skipping around a chapter or two. “Do you know your people?”

“I mean, a bit, I’ve not memorized any-”

“Perfect! Name 3 things that Durkheim contributed to sociology.”

Liam groans a bit and sinks down into the couch.

****

***

They stay in the library, leaning into each other and holding hands, until it’s dark outside and no one’s left but them and the librarian starts ushering them out. They’re stepping out into the brisk Autumn air before Liam even has his books in his bag, carrying them under his arms as he fumbles with the rest of his belongings.

His phone vibrates against his thigh and it’s strange to him, to be receiving a text while standing next to Harry.

**To: Liam  
From: Niall** __

_MATE! PICK UP FOOTIE MATCH HYDE PARK BE THERE_ ****

**To: Niall  
From: Liam** __

_It is 10 pm._ ****

**To: Liam  
From: Louis** __

_I hear you aren’t comin to footie? You are a disgrace Liam James_ ****

**To: Liam  
From: Zayn** __

_Please don’t leave me alone with these idiots._

“You got any other plans tonight?” Liam asks, shoving his phone in his pocket, as they make their way down the library steps.

“Nah, haven’t got work until tomorrow, and Niall’s been with Lou all day.”

“Honestly,” Liam sighs, “what are those two going to do when Eleanor gets back from holiday and Louis has to split time between three best friends instead of just El and Zayn. I count as Zayn too, by the way.”

“Probably lots of tears. Emotional eating on Niall’s part. I’ll have to shun Louis for a few days to show where my loyalties lie.”

Liam laughs, “I’ll obviously have to pick Louis’ side, have to listen to a bunch of whining about the yellow-haired-twat.”

They both laugh for a minute, shaking their heads and heading off of campus. 

Then Harry lets out a soft gasp, reaching over and grabbing Liam’s arm. “What about us!” He exclaims and Liam must look confused because Harry slows his speech down and watches Liam’s face intently as he continues. “If Louis’ Montague and Niall’s Capulet, what does that make us.”

It sinks in then, a wide smile stretching across Liam’s lips as he throws his backpack over his shoulder. “If I profane with my unworthiest hand, this holy shrine, the gentle sin is this: my lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss.” Liam holds his hand out to Harry, who ignores it at first.

“Good pilgrim,” Harry starts, trying to fight the smile budding on his lips, “you do wrong your hand too much, which mannerly devotion shows in this; for saints have hands that pilgrims' hands do touch.” Harry presses his hand against Liam’s, “And palm to palm is holy palmers' kiss.”

Liam links their fingers together, using his grip to pull Harry a little closer to him. “Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?” 

Harry nods, his green eyes meeting Liam’s brown. “Ay, pilgrim,” he whispers. “Lips that they must use in prayer.”

“O, then, dear saint, let lips do what hands do; they pray -- grant thou, lest faith turn to despair.” Liam raises his other hand to stroke Harry’s cheek gently. 

“Saints do not move, though grant for prayers' sake.” Harry takes a step back, releasing Liam’s hand and continuing the walk from campus.

“Then move not, while my prayer's effect I take.” Liam laughs, grabbing Harry’s waist and pulling him back and pressing a small kiss on his lips. “Thus from my lips, by yours, my sin is purged.”

Harry returns the pressure against Liam’s lips, their noses bumping together gently as they both laugh. “Then have my lips the sin that they have took.”

Liam lets out a dramatic gasp, gripping Harry’s waist with both hands now. “Sin from thy lips? O trespass sweetly urged! Give me my sin again.” Their lips meet again, steadier and heavier than the last kiss. 

“You kiss by th' book,” Harry whispers when their lips finally part, their foreheads pressed together and their noses nudging against one another.

There are a few things that Liam can’t believe as he and Harry finish their trek off campus and towards the tube. One: that he’s somehow managed to get a guy like Harry Styles interested in him, even if it’s temporary. Two: that it’s been five years since he last read Romeo and Juliet but he can still remember it so well. Three: that he’s going to blow off his mates and a game of footie to go home with Harry for the third night this week.

****

***

“Are you two not coming out, then?” Zayn asks as he leans into Liam’s bedroom doorway.

Liam shifts a bit, pulling his arm out from under a sleeping Harry so he can sit up. "Nah, mate. Wanna let him get some sleep, think he's poorly." Liam sighs a bit, twisting his body to look over at Harry curled in on himself, wrapped up in Liam's duvet.

Harry’s curled in on himself and wrapped up in Liam’s duvet. He shifts slightly, turning his head so Liam can get a glimpse of his face. His nose is red and rubbed sore, his eyes have bags under them, and his general complexion is a lot paler than average. The sight makes Liam pout as he turns back to Zayn, giving him a slight smile.

"Alright," Zayn sighs, shaking his head. "I'll let it slide this one time, but if you two slag me off one more time and make me spend the night with the likes of Louis and Niall, I'll have your head."

A genuine laugh breaks out between the two of them, only ending so Liam can talk. "Okay, okay. Where are those two anyway?"

"Oh you know, locked up in Lou's apartment denying their budding attraction for one another."

"Painfully obvious, huh?"

"Innit?" Zayn laughs again, his hand coming to rest on his stomach. 

Harry stirs beside Liam, his arm moving to drape over Liam's lap and pull him a bit closer. 

"Speaking of obvious," Zayn starts, raising his hand to gesture towards Harry. "What's up with you two?"

The room falls quiet for a moment as Liam mulls the question over in his mind. There’s nothing up with them. They’re friends and he’s said that a million times but no one seems to understand it. He takes a second to look down at Harry again, study the way his lips pout and the way his eyebrows slightly furrow when he’s asleep. Then, suddenly, there’s so much with them. Harry’s easily one of the most vital people in his life. He’s someone that Liam spends nearly every moment with. He’s the only person that Liam can feel one hundred percent comfortable around outside of Louis and Zayn. His hand find its way to Harry’s hair, pushing it out of his face before offering a quiet sigh.

“Nothing’s up with us, bro. Think we’re just, I don’t know. Going with the flow.”

“Going with the flow?” Zayn lets out a soft laugh, folding his arms over his chest and leaning against the door frame. “So you’re saying there is something, but you don’t know how to explain it?”

Liam just nods solemnly, chewing on his lip as he looks down at Harry, petting his hair gently. If there is something between them, then it is moving slowly. Which confuses Liam because when they first met, everything felt like a whirlwind. The truth is that barely anything above friendly has happened between the two of them ever since the night at the pub. There has been maybe five kisses shared and always in quiet places where no one is watching and where none of their friends are. If Liam was anything besides casual to Harry, then he figures there would have been something more. Something different. Liam wants something more, something different. He wants to be everything to Harry because Harry is quickly becoming everything to him. 

“Just not exclusive, I guess.” He gives a stiff laugh and looks up at Zayn. 

“And you’re alright with that? If it’s even true.”

“It’s not like I own him. He can do whatever he wants when he’s not here.”

Zayn nods, offering a shrug as he stands up straight. “Alright, Li. I’ll stop pestering you about it. Just don’t want my boy gettin’ hurt, y’know?”

“I know, Zee. Thanks.”

“Anytime, Payno. Now please pray for me as I take on this night full of Liall. That’s what I’m calling them. Might as well be one.”

Liam stiffles his laugh his his fist and flings his arm to toss an extra pillow at Zayn. “That’s a bloody awful name.”

“Got anything better?”

Liam thinks on it for a moment, shrugging. “Guess Nouis isn’t any better.” He makes a face, twisting it up in protest to both names.

****

***

Liam manages to untangle himself from Harry’s never-ending limbs and move to his desk across the room to get some work done while Harry sleeps. He’s got a textbook open on one side of his desk and his notebook in front of him, jotting down various excerpts from the chapter onto a neatly organized page. He’s nearly three chapters in now which is brilliant because when he first got out of the bed, he only had about two bullet points written down.

Liam adjusts the headphones in his ear before changing the song he’s listening to. It’s just something slow, something that doesn’t distract him too much from the task at hand but still provides enough noise so he isn’t sitting in silence and listening to Harry’s breath as his chest rises and falls in his sleep. That would be creepy, he thinks, so he’s just trying his best to be in his own bubble on the other side of the room. His pen twirls around between his fingers, then taps against the edge of his notebook, then flies from his hand when he misses it on another twirl.

“Nice going, stud.” Harry’s voice is thick and raspy like it always is when he first wakes up, and it brings a smile to Liam’s face.

His homework is meaningless now that Harry’s awake, so he pushes up from his desk and crosses the room, pulling his headphones out before dropping down to sit at the edge of the bed. “Feeling better, cookie?”

Harry lets out a whine in response to the nickname and pulls Liam’s duvet over his face. 

“Aw, what’s the matter, apple fritter? Still poorly?” He stifles a laugh behind his hand. “Poor banana nut muffin.”

“Must you with the nicknames, Liam?”

“Aw, babe.” Liam laughs again, moving himself farther up the bed so he can situate himself around Harry. “Just showing appreciation for your former employment.”

Harry lets out another whine, sinking himself into Liam’s side and they fall quiet again, Harry’s heavy rhythmic breathing filling the air around them. Nothing’s more comfortable than this. Nothing can even begin to compare to something like this and it’s weird because it’s such a simple thing. It’s just them lying in bed together, Harry donning Liam’s jumper because he has the shivers and Liam trying his best to wrap his entire body around him. Like he’s protecting him. Like it’ll make him feel better. 

Liam adds humming to the mix, pressing his lips against the top of Harry’s head and into his hair. His crazy, messy hair that Liam doesn’t understand how he manages. He had his own adventures with his long, curly hair, but he’d buzzed it all off as soon as summer heat set in. Liam runs his fingers through his own hair, noting that it’s getting a little long, even now. His attention falls back on Harry, whose fingers are dipping under the hem of Liam’s shirt and tracing his skin. It makes Liam shiver slightly, but not enough to want it to stop. It’s...comforting in some strange way, just feeling the touch. It’s such an innocent touch, gentle and kind, but it’s intimate in a way that makes Liam’s stomach twist up and drop. He likes it as much as he likes Harry.

“Did I interrupt you studying?”

“Wasn’t doing much, if I’m honest.” Liam breathes a laugh, trying to stay quiet as if them talking is going to somehow mess up the moment.

Harry nods and pushes his hand further up Liam’s torso, his fingertips brushing against Liam’s chest before gliding back down to his abdomen. Harry nuzzles his face into Liam’s neck, pressing his lips against the skin there ever so softly. “I didn’t mean to fall asleep.” He murmurs and Liam can feel his pout against his skin.

“You’ve got a cold, Haz. You needed a kip,” Liam reassures him, rubbing his hand against his arm and pulling him a little bit closer so he can get his other arm wrapped around him too, his hands coming to rest at the small of his back. 

“Yeah, but I could have a kip at my dorm.” Harry sighs, burying his face into Liam’s chest again and closing his eyes.

“Want you here though,” Liam hums, pressing his lips against Harry’s forehead. “Someone’s gotta look after you. You won’t get any better eating coffee pot noodles.”

“‘You’ve gone all Mummy Liam on me.” Harry laughs, shaking his head and rolling over onto his back. “Speaking of coffee pot noodles, have you got anything in for tea?”

“Could probably whip something up if you like. Or we could order in.”

“If we cook, will you make me a cuppa?”

Liam laughs, pulling himself into a seated position. “I’d make you tea even if we got takeaway, Haz.” He pulls the blankets off of them before standing up and extending his hand towards Harry. “Come on, you big baby.”

Autumn air blows in through the open windows, making the flat feel crisp once they step out of the warmth of Liam’s bedroom. The coolness makes Harry shiver visibly, clutching to the large jumper he’s stolen from the Liam’s closet for the last few days. Liam takes in the sight, watching Harry pad over to the kitchen and pull open the fridge to take a look inside. He smiles widely as Harry furrows his brows and pulls the sleeves of the jumper into his hands, making little paws as he browses the shelves and drawers. 

“What if we made cookies?” He asks, reaching into the fridge and moving a few things around like he’s looking for something or taking some sort of inventory.

“Hmm. We could do that.” Liam hums, coming up behind Harry and placing his hands on the boy’s hips so he can look into the fridge as well. “How about you get those started and I order Pad Thai take away?” 

“That sounds great but what if instead, just consider, you popped down to that chippy around the corner.” Harry laughs softly, standing up straight and leaning into Liam’s chest, his head turned just slightly so he can look at Liam’s face. “Could do for some curry chips.” 

“Oh, you could?” Liam raises his eyebrows, wrapping one of his arms around Harry’s waist and holding him close to his chest. 

“It’d make me feel loads better, Li.” As if the puppy dog eyes aren’t enough, Harry has the audacity to give Liam a pout of his lips, looking into his face like if Liam doesn’t go get the chips he could very well drop dead at any moment. 

After a quick moment of consideration, Liam gives in with a small sigh and a smile. “Alright. Harold gets what he wants today.” He presses his lips to Harry’s head quickly before untangling himself from the boy, “Again.” He laughs while shaking his head. Harry just flashes him a wide, dimpled smile and pulls the carton of eggs from the fridge as Liam dons a hoodie and slips out of the door.

****

***

“Alright. I really can’t eat anymore.” Liam sighs, tossing the other half of his cookie back onto the plate in front of them.

“I tried to tell you to stop about ten cookies ago,” Harry sighs and Liam turns in his seat to find where they boy’s gone off to now. He’s standing at the sink, loading dishes from his baking into the soapy water. 

“Yeah but I don’t like being told what to do.” Liam presses his tongue against his teeth as he smiles, pulling himself off of the couch to cross to the windowsill. It all feels so domestic, Liam pressing his lips firmly around the butt of a cigarette as he watches Harry wiggle around to a song in his head, arms elbow deep in dish water. Maybe he just wasn’t used to seeing people clean up after themselves. That’s what it was. Probably.

The first billow of smoke rises from his lungs, fogging the area around his face for a second before finally drifting through the window and into the London air. It's comfortable and calm, feelings that Liam welcomes into his life wholeheartedly. He likes the nights where it's just them, the other three slagging off to god knows where and leaving Harry and Liam to their own devices. He's content with the quiet that makes its way through the flat, only the muffled noises coming from the street below breaking it up. Liam sucks in another drawl of smoke, allowing it to dance around his lungs before exhaling again. He watches as the smoke twists out of his mouth, turns in on itself and takes several new shapes before finally being sucked out by a breeze passing through the window. 

It takes a moment but the boy finally pulls his eyes away from the window, dragging them across the room until they fall back on Harry. He's got his tongue poking out between his lips, face twisted in concentration as he scrubs at a dish he had dirtied. It makes Liam want to cross the room and kiss him. It makes Liam want to wrap his arms around the boy and hold him close to his chest. It makes him want to ask Harry to stay forever so he never has to worry about the boy growing tired of whatever this was. 

Instead Liam just sighs and brings the cigarette back to his lips, keeping his thoughts to himself and his feelings for the long haired boy doing his dishes locked away. 

****

***

“But it’d be bloody brilliant!” Niall shouts, slamming his thumb down against buttons on the playstation controller.

“Niall, we’re not doing a group costume for Halloween. Especially not the Power Rangers.” Liam smooths, patting the boy on his shoulder.

“But imagine it: Liam as Billy, Zayn as Zack, I’d be Trini, Harry as Kimberly and Lou as Jason. It’d be brilliant.”

“No.” Liam and Louis chime at the same time.

“What if we dressed up as Der-”

“Niall Horan if you suggest we dress as that god awful club of yours I’ll have your head.” Louis spits, throwing his hand over to knock against Niall’s controller.

“I need new mates.” Niall sighs, scooting further down the couch and away from Louis.

“I want no matching costumes out of this lot.”

“Did you and Zayn not go as two-fourths of kiss in 2013?” Liam accuses.

“Did you and Zayn not go as Batman and the Joker in 2014?” Louis retorts.

“Joker was a sick costume, plus we only did that because Zayn never got a costume. He literally just wore mine from 2013.”

"I thought you went as the Avengers last year? Cap, Iron Man and Spidey?" Niall asks absently, pressing controller buttons. 

"We had more than one party last year, Horan. You've gotta be prepared!" Louis commands, looking all too proud. 

“I went as Miley Cyrus once.” Harry adds out of nowhere, causing Liam, Zayn and Louis to send him a puzzled look while Niall scores on the game and cheers.

“He did. Was bloody brilliant. Thought his dick would pop out of the shorts he wore all night. Looked like he was dying.” 

Liam laughs and shakes his head. “Never mind our past costumes, lads. Does anyone have ideas for their costumes? What if someone goes out and gets one and someone else gets the same one.” 

“I’ve several but I’m not sharing any of them until I make my final decision because I don’t trust any of you.”

“He’s going as Deadpool, heard ‘im talking to El about it last night.” Niall chimes in.

Louis shoots daggers with his eyes, flinging his arm again to slap Niall’s side. “I swear I despise you lot, every one of you ‘cept Liam, Zayn and Harry.” Niall barks a laugh in response, shaking his head and shoving at Louis’ shoulder.

“Anyway.” Liam starts because he takes Halloween too seriously and the thought of not having a costume is driving him up the wall. “I think I’m calling dibs on Harry Potter.”

“You can have it, mate.” Zayn adds with his face scrunched up. He never was a fan of Harry Potter, the character not the books, more of a Snape fan.

“What about you, Harold?” Louis quips, turning his head only slightly to glance at Harry over his shoulder.

“Nope. My costumes remain secret until their debut. It’ll be killer though, just you wait."

“Alright.” Liam adds with his eyebrows scrunched together. “Zee? Any ideas?”

“My idea is to go to the Halloween shop tomorrow and find whatever costume isn't racist, misogynistic or appropriating something.” Zayn shrugs, “End up as a Johnny Depp character or summat.”

“Oh! Go as Edward Scissorhands, bro!” Louis chimes in and Zayn just nods like he’s considering it.

“Personally, I am offended and disgusted at how lightly this group is taking Halloween.” Harry adds, his arms crossed. “I’ve had my costume for a month!” 

“Not all of us can be as willfully interested in one night of the year, Harry.” Niall laughs, not bothering to turn his head from the game.

“Nor are we someone who refers to the entire month of October as Halloween. We still have three weeks.” Louis adds.

Harry’s bottom lip pushes into a pout as he steps up to Liam’s side, burrowing into him slightly. Liam just throws his arm over the boy’s shoulder and laughs. “Fall is life, Louis.” He adds simply, quoting a tumblr post he had seen circulating. “Halloween is the second most indispensable holiday of the year, beaten only by Christmas.”

“And my birthday.”

“Your birthday doesn’t count, wanker. It’s Christmas Eve.”

“The best day of the year, Payno.” Louis flashes him a toothy grin, causing himself a loss in the game. That’s what he gets, honestly.

“Alright, you lot, I’ve gotta get a young Harry to the pumpkin patch before dark.” Liam announces, removing his arm from Harry’s shoulder only to drop it down to reach for his hand instead. None of the boys respond to that, just keep their attention on the television like they were expecting Harry and Liam to leave soon. Liam doesn’t know what to make of it, so he doesn’t let it linger in his mind.

****

***

Liam’s watching Harry pull his hair into a bun as they wander through a maze of pumpkins. He stifles a laugh in his hand as Harry struggles to get every piece up then makes the most pleased face when he finally succeeds. It’s incredibly endearing for no specific reason. Most things about Harry are.

“Are you sure you want that one, Haz?” Liam's holding his pumpkin to his chest to defend himself from the crisp Autumn air blowing across the field. “It’s kind of, um, big.” 

Harry’s got a pumpkin the size of his torso propped against his hip, half tucked under one arm and half being held by the other arm. His smile’s wider than Liam’s ever seen it, dimples poking his cheeks in on both sides and even though he’s clearly struggling under the weight of the pumpkin, he is determined. “I’m positive. It’s perfect.”

“Come on, lemme help.” Liam sighs, sitting his normal sized pumpkin by Harry’s feet. He reaches out towards Harry, getting his hands on the pumpkin and pulling it into his arms. “Christ, Harry how were you even holding this.” Harry just laughs, bending down to pick up Liam’s pumpkin to carry. 

“Sheer determination. Plus I wasn’t moving so I think I tricked my body into holding it up.” He gives Liam a quiet laugh and Liam is so… so endeared that he barely notices his muscles whining about the excess weight he’s carrying in his arms.

****

***

They’ve got newspapers sprawled all over the floor of Harry’s dorm and there’s a little bit of pumpkin guts on almost everything. Including their clothes and maybe there are a few seeds in Harry’s hair but they’ve been laughing for an hour and just don’t have any time to care about the mess they’re making.

Liam's arm is elbow deep in his pumpkin, making sure he's got as much of the insides out as he can get. He hadn't carved a pumpkin since he was about seven but it'd only taken a millisecond of Harry pouting to convince him to do it. He just wasn't artistic or that talented with his hands and his finished products had never matched up with the ideas in his head. It was discouraging but one dimple filled smile from Harry is enough to wipe away the disbelief Liam feels towards his carving skills. 

Harry's already slicing into his; he's got his tongue between his teeth and his eyebrows pulled together as he makes light markings across the pumpkin's skin, like he's outlining or making the design. Liam thinks he looks brilliant, thinks his pumpkin will look brilliant too. 

He just sits and watches for a little bit, deciding he'll take the easy route with his pumpkin and do the classic triangle eyes and smile for his. But Harry-- Harry's carving the pumpkin out at different levels, clarifying to Liam that it'll show up like shading when there's a light inside and it's all so fascinating to witness. 

They finish in two hours which Harry says is quick but Liam can't believe they spent so much time doing one thing. Harry stands up, padding over to his light switch and flicking it off so there's no light in the room except from the candles he'd placed careful inside their pumpkins. 

"What do you think?" He asks, turning hopefully towards Liam. 

Liam can't help but stare at Harry's face lit by the flickering flames coming from their pumpkins. There's a quiet moment before Liam answers, too busy bouncing his eyes around Harry's features to speak. "Beautiful." He says simply, pulling his eyes away from Harry to look down at the pumpkins. They look alright, too. 

 

****

***

"What's the plan tonight, Payno?" Louis asks, dropping onto Liam's bed, already donning his tight spandex costume.

Liam's still in bed, not even awake enough to think about tonight's festivities. "Don't know, Lou. Figure we can all meet up there. Don't feel much like driving tonight, so we could walk. Taking the tube on Halloween would be too weird."

Louis nods in agreement and flops onto his back, lying next to Liam and staring up at the ceiling. "Any clue of what Harry might wear?"

"Nah," Liam sighs, rolling onto his back. "But I'm proper terrified, like."

Louis laughs and nods, showing his agreement then it falls quiet between them again. It's a comfortable quiet, like a blanket draping over them on a chilly morning. Liam can feel himself drifting back to sleep, his eyelids heavy, his limbs harder to move. 

"How are things with the boyfriend?" Louis asks as Liam lets his eyes fall shut. 

"Wha-- Who?"

"Your boyfriend, Liam James. The boy you've been shagging for three months." Liam stays quiet, trying to figure out what Louis is talking about because he hasn't had a shag in about six months and he thinks he'd know who it was if he had been shagging someone. Louis must catch the confusion on Liam's face, "Harry! Harry Styles? He's about 6 foot tall, stupid hair, spends every minute he can taped to your body? Ring any bells?"

Liam laughs softly, shaking his head and throwing his arm over his eyes. "He's not my boyfriend."

"Okay," Louis starts, "that's sounds fake but alright."

A long sigh slips from Liam's lips, "He's not. We're just.. I don't know, we're like, friends."

"Friends." Louis lets out a quiet laugh, shaking his head and pulling himself into a seated position. "Right, anyway."

Liam's phone vibrates on his bedside table but Louis lunges and grabs it before Liam gets the chance. "Hey, stud." Louis reads, wrinkling his nose, "With two x's at the end. Why is that needed?" 

"It's just a thing he does, Zayn does it all the time."

"Never more than one unless he's flirting. Don't act like I don't know my best mate's texting habits, Liam James." Liam's phone vibrates in Louis' hands. "Lunch before getting ready?" Louis reads again, "And more x's." The smaller boy laughs, tossing the phone at Liam's chest. "Just friends though, proper mates is all." 

"He's just really friendly, Lou. That's just how Harry is, you've met him." Liam shrugs, "Handsy is a good word to describe him." 

"Handsy." Louis repeats. "He might get 'Handsy' with us but he's a full blown koala bear sloth hybrid when it comes to you, mate."

Liam lets out a groan, rolling over to his side because it's too early to think about this and it's not like he doesn't already go to sleep and wake up every day wondering if he's going to have the balls to just tell Harry how he feels and face the impending feeling of defeat when the other boy inevitably rejects him. 

"Why won't you listen when I say you two are a proper thing? Do you not want to b-"

"Do I not want to be?" Liam interrupts. "Of course I want to be, Louis. God. I've wanted to since I first met the bloke but just because I want something doesn't mean I'm getting it." 

"That's quitter talk."

"No, it's realistic talk. Harry's just. I don't think he wants that. It's just a, I don't know. Nothing." Honestly, Liam isn't surprised. He had always assumed that after the night in the pub that he and Harry wouldn't see much of each other. He's happy enough to get his constant company, he doesn't need or want to bring his feelings into it just to complicate things. If they’ve kissed a few times since then, that’s just normal. Just a way to pass time, have some fun. For all Liam knows, Harry could be doing the same thing with a million other guys and it'd be none of his business.

"That's rubbish, Li and you know it." Maybe it is, but Liam just shrugs again and rolls over, pulling the blanket up to his chin.

*******

**To: Liam  
**  
From: Harry

_Wanna see a sneak peek of my costume?_

Liam's phone vibrates in his hand with a new message before he can even text back to the first one. He swipes it open, clicking onto the preview to see what the picture Harry sent is.

It's Harry's chest, specifically his right nipple and Liam's certain he only knows that because of the tattoos also visible in the picture. 

**To: Harry  
From: Liam** __

_Going naked is not a costume it's a Felony lol_

**To: Liam  
From: Harry** __

_You'd be against it then?_ ****

**To: Harry  
From: Liam** __

_I see what ur doing here, haz it won't work_ ****

**To: Liam  
From: Harry** __

_Is that a no you wouldn't be opposed?_ ****

**To: Harry  
From: Liam** __

_See u tonight! Go away!_

****

***

He's only had two drinks but he's already feeling them. Then again, he had decided to allow Louis to make them so the amount of rum in each cup probably equated to about 5 normal drinks. 'Get drunk early, water only after 1 am, no hangovers' was always the plan when they went out and tonight would be no different.

"Look at my handsome wizard," A voice booms from behind him and Liam goes dizzy when he turns around. 

Harry, of course, is a sight to see. He's topless like Liam expected he would be but his lower torso is covered in a layer of green-blue body shimmer that leads into a shimmery pair of tights that match and flare out at the end, creating the illusion of fins. A merman. Okay. 

"You're a fish!" Liam blurts and Harry pouts a bit, looking down at this costume. Liam hates that look. The one that Harry gets when someone says something upsetting. The one Harry gets when Liam doesn't think before speaking. "I meant part fish," he laughs, "a very handsome mermaid- merperson!" Liam laughs again and Harry joins him, shaking his head. 

"Have you been letting Lou make your drinks? I'd watch that boy." Harry smiles so his cheek dimples and Liam's suddenly woozy from the alcohol. That's it. That's why his step falters slightly when he tries to step past Harry to lead him towards the other boys. 

Harry grips at Liam's arm, holding onto his elbow to steady him. "Careful there, Li. Want you in one piece." 

“Don’t we all!” Chimes Niall, coming up behind Harry dressed as a footballer. Typical. “Though, Haz here might want ye in one piece a bit more than the rest of us.” 

Liam’s sure he imagines the blush that spreads across Harry’s cheeks and if he doesn't then it’s probably just because of the alcohol in his system. 

“There they are!” Bellows Louis as the others approach him and Zayn. “What the bloody hell are you, Styles?” He laughs, shaking his head.

Harry holds his head up high, folding his arms over his chest and smiling widely, “I”m a merman!”

“Sure, mate.” Louis laughs but Harry doesn’t let it bother him. Or at least he doesn’t pout the way he did when Liam had shown confusion over the costume.

“Costume's sick, Harry.” Zayn chimes in, reaching his fist out for Harry to bump his against. Harry complies with a wide, dimpled smile and Liam has to look away at that. He turns to find Louis leaning into Niall and whispering something that Liam wishes he could hear, then Niall blushes and shakes his head before leaning to whisper something back to Louis and maybe he doesn’t want to know after all.

“Liam!” Someone’s shouting from behind the group, he almost recognizes the voice but it’s covered so heavily by the thumping music that he can’t make out who it belongs to until a giggling brunette links her arm with his. “I love your costume!” The girl adds, smiling widely. “I was totally going to go as Hermione, we could have matched.”

“Shame you didn’t, Soph. You’d make a sick Hermione.” He replies, pulling his arm away from the girl only to drape it over her shoulder. He wasn’t lying, Sophia Smith was the epitome of Hermione Granger. She was brilliant, witty, and absolutely stunning. Liam had known her since their childhood, crushed on her all through sixth form then ended up making out with her at a party before heading off to the same Uni.

“I would, huh?” The girl laughs, “Always thought Harry’d end up with her, proper broke my heart.”

“Hermione belonged with Ron.” One of the boys nearly growls, but Liam doesn’t turn to see who it is until Harry steps close to him, tugging on the sleeve of his Hogwarts robe slightly, adding, “Besides, Harry Potter had a boner for Draco Malfoy since they met.”

Louis lets out a choked laugh that he’d probably been trying to hold in for a few moments and Liam catches Sophia narrow her eyebrows at Harry for a split second before stretching her lips into a smile, “Well, I’ll see you later, yeah?” She giggles again, rubbing her hand against Liam’s arm before running off to rejoin her group of friends.

Harry scoffs under his breath and links his arm around Liam’s, stepping forward a bit as Sophia got farther away. Liam doesn’t quite understand what just happened but Louis’ been in a laughing fit for three minutes and he’s nearly doubled over with it. Liam searches until his eyes lock with Zayn’s, questioning the situation because he knows that if anyone can answer, it’s Zayn. Zayn just nods slightly before jerking his head towards Harry and motioning towards the drink table.

Liam clears his throat, “Um, Haz, do you want anything to drink?” He quips, turning his full attention to Harry now. 

It’s a simple question, really. Just do you or do you not want something to drink but for some reason it makes Harry smile as he nods, his hand moving until his fingers are entwined with Liam’s. It makes Liam feel warm, maybe it’s the alcohol but, he can feel the heat radiating from his stomach to his chest and through his cheeks. It’s probably not the alcohol, he thinks. It’s just Harry. This is what Harry does and it’s insane to Liam that such a small, innocent thing can cause him to turn to an absolute madman. 

And it sucks, probably, because Liam’s still certain that whatever it is between them isn’t what he thinks he wants it to be. Even if Louis says it is and even if Zayn agrees. Liam just isn’t sure. He can’t read Harry, he can’t get him right. He’s never been able to but that’s one of his favorite things about the boy. The way that he somehow spends every single day with Harry and still manages to be surprised by him. It’s something that makes Harry special, something that just makes him feel even harder for him.

“So who was that girl?” Harry asks, taking his cup from Liam’s hand and sipping the contents.

“Sophia? Oh we grew up together in Wolverhampton.” He nods, “Met her even before Zayn.” Liam laughs a bit before taking a drink. “Used to have the biggest crush on her. Got over it though, she’s just a good friend. It’s nice to know someone from home here.”

“Yeah.” Harry replies, “She’s very pretty.” He takes another drink, looking anywhere but at Liam and for a moment it falls quiet between them. Harry clears his throat, running a finger against the condensation on the side of his cup. “Did you guys ever, like. You know. Were you ever together?”

“Me and Soph?” Liam laughs again, shaking his head. “Nah, I was a bit of a nerd back then. Was lucky she even talked to me, if I’m honest. Had the worst hair all through school.”

“Soph.” Harry repeats, pressing his lips together before making them stretch into a crooked smile. “You’re still a bit of a nerd, Liam. You’re dressed as Harry Potter.” He raises an arm up, pushing it through the curly bit of hair at the top of Liam’s head. “And this mop isn’t too great either.”

“Oi!” Liam protests, swatting at Harry’s hand. “You’re one to talk, mate. What’s all of this then?” Liam tugs on one of Harry’s curls, pulling it straight then letting it bounce back. 

“I thought you liked my hair,” Harry pouts, his hand wrapping around Liam’s again.

“Sounds like something I’ve said.” Liam raises their hands and brushes his lips against the back of Harry’s hand. 

“You’re all talk and no bite, Liam Payne.” Harry laughs a bit, leaning into the other boy. “I think that’s my favorite thing about you.”

They laugh together, leaning into each other as they do so. If anyone were to be watching them, there’s no doubt that they look like they’re together. Liam’s hands had found Harry’s waist more naturally than anything he had ever done and they’re close enough they could kiss. They don’t though. They never really do outside of Liam’s room. Unless Harry’s the one initiating it. He’s never sure if Harry wants to, never makes the first move but that’s alright. Liam’s just glad to be here, glad to be standing so close to someone like Harry. If he’s honest, he’s just happy every moment he has the boy’s attention.

“So, Liam..” Harry starts, leaning a bit closer to nudge his nose against Liam’s before taking a few steps back and taking a drink. “I’ve been thinking about some stuff.”

Liam leans towards him again, trying to hear what he was saying. The new distance between them making it hard to understand the boy over the loud music pulsating around them. “What? I’m sorry, this song is just really loud.”

He sees Harry sigh more than he hears him but the boy raises his voice a bit, “I’ve been thinking about some stu--”

 

"--LiLi!" Sophia interrupts, her eyes sending daggers towards Harry, "It’s later! Wanna dance?"

“Um,” Liam looks between the girl and Harry then shrugs, which is apparently a yes to Sophia because she spins out from under his arm and tugs on his hand until they're deeper into the party. He feels bad for letting himself get pulled away from Harry when he was trying to talk but by the time he gets a chance to turn back to mouth an apology, Harry’s leaning into a tall, dark haired man that Liam barely recognizes. They’ll talk later, he’s sure. When Harry’s not busy and Liam’s not being pulled onto the dance floor. Everyone is moving against each other on this side of the room; the music is thumping so loudly that he's a hundred percent sure he'll be feeling the vibrations through his body even after he leaves. 

Sophia loves it though, her body sways perfectly in time with the music. It's like her body is the music; she is the rhythm and the beat. Liam lets himself get a little lost in it all; his hands cup her sides as they move together in unison. It comes naturally, dancing. It's something Liam had always found fun to do, just moving to the music in whatever way you pleased. It was freeing. 

Sophia turns and presses her back again Liam, swaying against him to the music. Liam splays his hand against her abdomen, his eyes scanning the crowd as they move. Almost everyone had coupled up. Zayn's with some girl, bright eyed and blonde, dancing around him as he bops and sways slightly. Niall and Louis are in a far off corner, huddled together and whispering as they lean against the wall. Liam even spots Louis' friend Eleanor as she leads a tall, floppy haired boy towards the drinks. A smile toys at his lips as he watches his friends enjoy their time. His eyebrows pull together, searching the crowd for Harry as he realizes he didn't see him in the first sweep. He's probably on the dance floor, he thinks. Or chatting up someone near the drinks. Wherever Harry is, Liam's certain he's pulling out the Harry™ brand and charming someone to death. 

He gives up when Sophia's body twists against him, her hand sliding against his shoulder and to the back of his neck as she angles his head towards her. Their eyes meet for a split second before Sophia rocks onto the tips of her toes and closes the distance. 

****

***

"What did you do?"

"What?" Liam rolls over, rubbing sleep from his eyes and mentally cursing himself for not locking his bedroom door. 

"Niall says Harry hasn't left his dorm in a week." Louis explains, making his way into Liam's room and sitting on the edge of the bed. "So." He spits, "What did you do?"

"Haven't don't anything, mate. I don't know what you're on about."

"Give it a rest! What happened at the party?"

"You were there?" Liam yawns, tired and confused. He hasn't done a thing, has he? He thinks back to the party, bits of it still blurry from the amount of alcohol he drank.

"Yes but I was occupied." The boy sighs, worrying his lip for a moment. "What happened with you and Harry?" He asks more specifically, "After you danced with Sophia."

"Barely remember even dancing with Soph." Liam laughs, pulling his blankets up to his chin. "Figure I went and found Hazza somewhere? I remember looking for him." Liam shrugs again, still not understanding why any of this is relevant. 

"So daft." Louis mumbles but not quietly enough because Zayn must hear him from the other room. 

"Louis," he scolds, "knock it off."

Louis twists his face up, sticking his tongue out towards the living room. 

"Anyway, when did you last talk to Harry then?"

"He hasn't texted back since the day after the party."

"Okay. So what did you do?" He asks again and Liam lets out a frustrated groan. 

"What did I do? Why do you think I have anything to do with Harry Styles not leaving his bloody dorm room. It's Autumn break. He's probably sleeping."

"Zayn Malik if you don't want me strangling your best mate I suggest you come tell him how bleedin' thick he's acting."

"What are you two on about?" Zayn asks as he steps into the doorway. 

"Liam here believes that his actions at the Halloween party have no correlation to Harold not leaving his dorm room for a week."

"Because I didn't do anything!" Liam shouts and pulls himself into a sitting position to give them both an exasperated look. 

"Liam, love." Zayn starts. His eyes are soft when they fall on Liam's and it's enough to make Liam fall quiet and listen to whatever words are about to come out of his mouth. "You don't think that Harry seeing you kiss Sophia in front of everyone didn't upset him?"

"He kissed Sophi- YOU KISSED SOPHIA?" Louis looks from Zayn to Liam then back again. 

"You'd have noticed if you weren't too busy with Niall in that dark secluded corner all night." Zayn adds and Liam watches as Louis starts to say something then closes his mouth quickly. 

“Why would that matter to Harry?” Liam asks because this just keeps getting more and more confusing the longer the boys talk to him. 

Louis just laughs and shakes his head like he’s done trying to explain something that Liam doesn’t think he ever started to explain while Zayn gives Liam sad eyes and a sincere smile. 

“Love, why don’t you just talk to Harry yourself, yeah?” Zayn suggests, standing up from Liam’s bed and pulling Louis with him. 

They leave and after lying completely still and staring up at his ceiling just trying to figure everything out for twenty minutes, Liam rolls over and grabs his phone.

**To: Harry  
From: Liam** __

_missin you cupcake_

His phone doesn’t buzz for seven minutes and twenty-three seconds. (He’s not counting.)

**To: Liam  
From: Harry** __

_Been busy. ___

__Liam frowns, turning his phone over in his hand a few times._ _

__**To: Harry  
From: Liam** ___ _

___did I do something?_ ****_ _

__**To: Liam  
From: Harry** ___ _

___No._ ****_ _

__**To: Harry  
From: Liam** ___ _

___u sure?_ ****_ _

__**To: Liam  
From: Harry** ___ _

___Positive, stud._ _ _

__Liam sighs again, one of relief as he pulls himself into an upright position and stares down at his phone._ _

__**To: Harry  
From: Liam** ___ _

___wuna get out of that dorm room for a bit?_ ****_ _

__**To: Liam  
From: Harry** ___ _

___Not today, Li. I’ll text you later, yeah?_ ****_ _

__**To: Harry  
From: Liam** ___ _

___sure haz_ _ _

__

__****_ _

***

Liam doesn’t see Harry for another week. And when he does see him it’s because Niall’s demanding everyone go to a concert on campus. Some indie rock artist that he’s positive everyone will agree on. He’s probably not wrong, that seems to be the only genre any of them can compromise on when they’re together, so they all comply. Even Harry, who’s been ignoring texts, phone calls and locked his door instead of answering it when Liam went to surprise him with his favorite takeaway.

Liam follows a few feet behind Louis and Zayn as they near the large auditorium on campus. He can see Niall’s bright hair radiating under the streetlamp, Harry’s next to him. Tall, with a huge smile breaking his face in half as he jokes with his friend. Liam’s stomach twists into a knot. It’s been two weeks since he’d seen that smile. He misses it. He misses Harry. Liam worries his lip as the distance between the two groups closes and he catches Harry’s eye only to see the boy’s smile fade as he looks away from Liam. His stomach drops at that.

He still isn't sure what he did, if he upset Harry, if the boys were right in saying that dancing with Sophia at the Halloween party was to blame or maybe Harry had just finally gotten tired of Liam and is trying his best to make it obvious that he doesn’t want Liam in his life anymore. Liam swallows thickly as Louis breaks the silence.

“This better be worth the night of footie I gave up for it,” He mumbles as his hand brushes Niall’s side, pulling the boy towards him. 

“Shut up, Lou.” Niall laughs back, leaning into the other boy and pressing his lips to his temple.

So that’s for sure a thing, then. Liam takes a mental note and turns his head slightly to find Harry. He’s a few steps away from the rest of the group, his arms draped over his torso like he’s trying to look small. It’s working. He looks folded in on himself, small even though he’s the tallest one of the group. It makes a lump get caught in Liam’s throat. 

“All righ’, Payno?” Niall asks as he pulls himself away from Louis.

Liam nods and swallows thickly, “All right.” He turns his attention back to Harry. “How about you, Hazza?” He asks. “You good?”

Harry’s eyes widen like he wasn’t expecting to be seen but his face smooths out quickly. “Just fine, stud.” He offers Liam a smile but it’s not convincing. In fact it just makes the lump form in Liam’s throat again.

“Let’s get to our seats then, lads.” Niall interrupts, pulling a stack of tickets from his pocket and handing them out to each of them.

Liam glances down at it, locating the artist’s name (James Bay) and their row. “Row three? That’s sick, Niall.” He flashes a small smile and the blonde returns it.

“That it is,” Louis starts, throwing his arm over Niall’s shoulders. “Let’s get in there and see if this bloke lives up to the hype ye give ‘im.”

****

***

James Bay, as it turns out, is one of the best shows Liam’s ever been to. He doesn’t know what it is about the guy and his small band behind him but he comes alive on stage. The set list ranges from slow songs where Liam can spot couples lacing their fingers together and swaying side to side to upbeat songs that have some of the crowd jumping around to the beat. He’s standing between Zayn to his left and Harry to his right and he’s willing to bet this is exactly how Niall planned it. It’s awful because he wants to lean into Harry, nudge his arm and offer him smiles but every moment Liam gets close to doing it Harry leans away or turns his head. So Liam just stares forward, watching the stage.

The musician turns his guitar around so it’s resting against his back and grips the microphone, staring over the crowd. “You’ve all been so lovely,” He hums, tapping his fingers against the stand. “Thank you so much to everyone for being here tonight. I couldn’t be out here doing this if it weren’t for all of you.” He flashes a wide smile, “There’s so many people who help run this ship. These three guys behind me, my whole crew. Just want to thank everyone.” He laughs again as his drummer shouts something that Liam can’t make out. “And thanks to Lou in Merch. He’s a real legend.” The drummer starts in on a beat like he’s trying to speed the singer along. “Alright well, we’ve got a few more songs for you.” 

The guitars come in heavier and James takes a deep breath, “ _If I told you about my favorite dream, the one without you would you spit fire at me_...”

Liam bobs his head along with the beat, chewing on the inside of his lip as the song continues. He can hear Niall on the other side of Zayn, singing along at the top of his voice. He lets out a quiet laugh, shaking his head and turning to look at the boy. Niall’s got a wide smile, his mouth stretched across his face as he screams the words back at the musician.

“ _This can't be all we are. Silent and in the dark. We could be making sparks but we don't ignite, don't ignite. We could be making sparks, but we need to fight, need to fight_.”

The second verse kicks in and Liam can see Harry stir out of the corner of his eye but by the time he turns to get an actual look at him, Harry’s halfway down the row squeezing past everyone until he hits the main aisle and heads towards the exit.

With a quick, panicked look towards Zayn, who offers a slight shrug and mouths, “Go on,” Liam sighs and makes his way out through the same path as Harry.

 

****

***

“Harry, where are you going?” He shouts once outside, his steps falling a few feet behind Harry’s.

“Why does it matter?"

"Why wouldn't it matter?"

Harry turns around and Liam gets a look at his face but wishes he didn't. Harry's eyes are red like he's about to cry. 

"You can't just answer questions with more questions. It doesn't work like that." Harry spits, turning to start walking again.

"You answered mine with one!" Liam tries to joke, but Harry's still walking away from him and he doesn't understand why. "Can you stop walking away? I just want to know what's wrong, Harry." He jogs a bit, catching up with the other boy so he can grab his arm and stop him. 

Harry slows to a stop but pulls his arm away, "You want to know what's wrong? Me being here is wrong, Liam. Letting Niall talk me into this hell of a night was wrong." He lets out a dry laugh, "And everything I ever thought I knew about you is wrong."

Liam furrows his eyebrows, "What the fuck's that mean, then? What've I done?"

"What've you done? Liam, you kissed someone else! And you did it right in front of me and a hundred other people. I couldn't even get you to kiss me in front of our friends." 

"I didn't! She kissed me."

"And you let her. You went with her, you walked away from me to go with her."

"I didn't know it'd upset you, Harry, I'd never want to hurt you." Liam furrows his brow, leaning towards Harry. Harry retaliates by taking a step back. 

"Bullshit." He spits, shaking his head. "Why would you not know that'd upset me Liam? How would that not upset me?" There's a laugh in his tone but his face is serious. 

Liam offers him a slight shrug, not knowing how to answer properly. "I just- we weren't. You know, like- exclusive? I didn't think you wanted to be." Liam can’t do anything but shrug again, so he does. “Besides, when I turned around you were already with some other guy looking all cozy and whatever.”

"We weren't exclusive?" Harry actually laughs this time. "What, did you think for the last three months I've been running off to other people on the one night I didn't spend with you a week?" Liam shifts awkwardly, staring down at his feet. "Is that what you thought?" Liam doesn't have to look up to know that Harry's face has fallen, he can hear it in his voice. "I'd never do that, Liam. I never- there was no one but you. Ever since the stupid phone switch up it's only been you. I couldn't go a day without you, couldn't sleep without you humming to me. That's exclusive. We were exclusive." Liam opens his mouth to talk, even though he has no idea what to say but then Harry’s going at him again, “And that bloke I was cozy with? He was the TA in my Philosophy class Freshman year, we got on well. We became friends. He saw me and was coming to check on me. Apparently I looked like I’d just had my heart ripped out and stomped on in the middle of the party. Don’t know why that’d be though, couldn’t be because the person I fancy had left me alone.” Harry scoffs, shaking his head. “Just go, Liam.”

Liam's chest hurts because he's done all the wrong things, he's thought all the wrong things and he's said all the wrong things. He can feel this ending and it's too soon because Harry doesn't know how much he means to Liam. Liam's never gotten the chance to tell him and it's not like right now is the ideal time but Liam doesn't know if he'll ever get another chance. "Haz.." He starts, looking up to try and meet Harry's gaze. "Harry, I'm so sorry, I'm so daft and I just- I didn't-"

"No, Liam. I-" Harry shakes his head, taking a few more steps back. "Save it, yeah? It's too late, I'm going home." 

 

****

***

**To: Harry  
**  
From: Liam __

_I’m so sorry_ ****

**To: Harry  
From: Liam** __

_Can we pls talk?_ ****

**To: Harry  
From: Liam** __

_Harry please can we just sort this out…._ ****

**To: Harry  
From: Liam** __

_Forgive me._

Liam tries Harry for two weeks straight with nothing. It’s not like he expects Harry to forgive him and take him back, give him the chance to fix everything he messed up. He doesn’t expect anything from Harry. He doesn’t deserve anything from Harry and after the second week wraps up, he doesn’t get anything from Harry. 

He starts to fold in on himself and the seasons start to change again. Liam feels responsible for that, like he’s forcing the world to reflect what he looks like on the inside. Cold, bare and dark. Maybe it’s dramatic but by the time late-November comes around it starts to take every ounce of Liam’s energy to get up and get to class or go to work or just-- exist. He’s not depressed or anything like that, he never had been. He just got sad easily, fell into a few ruts here and there and let them run their course. He twirls a pencil in his fingers and stretches his legs across the couch, trying his best to focus on the study guide for his Astronomy class while Louis fumbles around in their closet.

“Do you have any gloves? It’s bloody freezing outside and I’ve got to get to Nialler’s.”

“Don’t you have your own flat?” He spits, flipping the page before letting out a dramatic sigh. “Zayn’s got some in his top drawer,” Liam responds, not bothering to look up from where he’s reading. No offense to Louis but the last thing he wants to hear about is Niall’s flat where Harry will probably also be and Liam’s not invited to. Niall’s still his friend and all, they hang out whenever Niall gets a chance to come over but it’s pretty clear that sides have been chosen and Harry got the Irish one. Liam can’t complain, he’s got Zayn and Louis’ playing neutral, but he still wishes he had someone closer to Harry that was willing to tell Liam how he was, what he was up to, if his classes were going well, if he’d met someone else. Instead Niall kept their conversations completely Harry Styles free and Liam should really thank him for that, but he won’t.

“All right, Payno?” Louis asks, crossing the room to stand at the armrest of the sofa. He peers over Liam, tilting his head a bit and folding his arms over his chest like he already doesn’t believe Liam’s ‘All right.’ even though he hasn’t said it yet.

“All right.” He says anyway because he can’t think of anything else to say. He can’t think of any other lies to tell or how to explain how he really feels right now. 

“Think that’s rubbish but I’ve learned best not to push you too hard.” 

Liam just nods, worrying his lip as he reads through the next passage. He hopes it’s enough to get Louis to back off but well, he knows Louis and that’s just rubbish wishful thinking.

“What are you up to tonight then? Just plannin’ t’sit on the couch listening to the likes of James Bay and sulk when you think no one’s around? You aren’t slick, you know. Never have been.”

Liam gives no response, just stares harder at his page and tries not to lose his place as he reads.

“You know Harry moved into Niall’s flat last week, right?” Liam feels like he could burn a hole in the book with how hard he’s staring at it in order to not give Louis the reaction he’s looking for. “I’ve barely seen him. Which makes it seem like he’s doing just as bad as you’re pretending to not be doing.”

“What do you want me to say, Louis?”

“Admit you aren’t all right as a first step. Then start planning how you’re going to fix it.”

Liam huffs a sigh and flips his book closed, tossing it to the floor. “I can’t just- Louis.” He takes a deep breath, rubbing the heels of his hands against his eyes as he pulls himself into a sitting position. “Harry doesn’t want anything to do with me. I can’t just fix this. It’s done. It’s over. You can’t just pep talk me into making a bigger dick of myself.”

“Don’t need my pep talks to do that, mate.” Liam can tell that he’s trying to joke but the comment still digs a little too deep for him to not take to heart. 

“Cheers, mate. Weren’t you in a hurry a moment ago?” 

“Right, right.” Louis shrugs slightly, clasping his hands together and heading towards the door. He pauses, turning to face the couch again and lets out a heavy sigh. 

“What, Lou?” Liam groans, folding his arms over his chest.

“You know the jumper you leant him months ago? The gray one he never took off.” Louis sighs again, “He’s still bloody wearin’ it, isn’t he." The boy shrugs, sending Liam a sad look before stepping out of apartment. “You can keep lying to yourself if it makes you feel better, Li. But it’s not helping you and it’s not fooling any of us.” It's the last thing Liam hears before Louis shuts the door and makes his way outside.

For a moment Liam just sits there, staring at the ceiling with no idea of what he’s meant to do. He’s fairly certain that Harry wants nothing to do with him. He hasn’t for weeks now. Actually, now that he's thinking about it, Harry’s been avoiding him for a few days shy of a month. Whatever was between them is over with by now because Liam mucked it up and didn't push enough to fix it. Maybe it was never meant to be fixed though, maybe Liam is meant to be without Harry. Maybe the two were never meant to have met and Louis was never meant to be with Niall and the two groups were never meant to combine. 

Liam clutches his stomach as a pang of grief floods through him because that's not at all how he really feels. In no version of any universe does Liam feel as though he was never supposed to meet Harry. In no universe is he not meant to be with him. Liam knows that, he can feel it in his gut every time Harry crosses his mind. The thing is, Liam’s certain that he and Harry came from the same star at the very beginning of the universe. Liam’s soul is pulled towards the boy, it always has been like there’s some sort of magnetic field drawing them together. Harry felt the same way. Liam’s thought on it for the entire month. The signs were there, Harry made it obvious, but Liam still didn’t see it at the time. He really messed it all up, he thinks, because Harry could be lying here with him right now. He could have been here the entire month but Liam messed up. It hurts, sends an aching wave over the boy’s body to think about Harry not feeling the same way anymore. 

Liam’s phone vibrates against his thigh, pulling him out of his own thoughts and back into the world. 

**To: Liam  
From: Louis** __

_Figure it out, mate._

 

****

***

It's one more week until he finally gives in. He shouldn't be here. He doesn't have a plan and he's not even sure if he’ll be let in the apartment or not. He's positive that Harry doesn't want to see him, though, and that's enough to keep a lump in his throat as he rounds the corner onto the street that Niall and Harry’s flat is.

He paces a few times, considering turning around and heading back home. He's just scared, he's at a point of no return and he's not sure where to go now. It's frustrating to think about because there are really only two outcomes. Harry is either going to turn Liam away or accept him back and Liam is willing to place bets on it being the former. He thinks he’ll understand though, because if the roles were reverse Liam wouldn't forgive himself either. 

He finally jogs up the steps, his thumb hovering over the page button to the flat and he hesitates a little. 

“Hey Liam!” Breaks the boy out of his own thoughts, making him turn around to see another tenant of the building heading out of the door. 

“Hey, Ed.” Liam gives him a smile, waving his hand a bit. 

The redhead holds the door open, inviting Liam into conversation but more importantly he makes it possible for Liam to sneak into the building without giving the boys upstairs the option to turn him away. 

Liam thanks him quietly as they part, making sure the door gets shut behind him before heading to the stairwell. They're only four flights up and it gives Liam enough time to think about what he's going to say. 

Except he's on the third flight already and he still doesn't know what to do. 

Then he's on the fourth and his heart’s about to beat out of his chest because this feels so make or break. This is his last chance to prove himself worthy of someone like Harry. Prove himself worthy of someone so selfless and intelligent and intriguing. Maybe he isn't actually worthy, maybe Harry knew that already and this is a waste of Liam’s time but he couldn't not try just once more. 

He gets to their door and knocks before he can second guess himself again. He can't hear anything on the other side, no shuffling of feet heading towards the door, no TV muted through the wall, no chatting or laughter. It's just quiet. Liam knocks again. 

Then he knocks again and he's almost frantic because there's no way he's going to be able to work up the courage to come back and do this another day. He’s about to give up, he really is. He’s stepping back from the door and ready to turn away and make his way home when he finally hears someone turn the handle.

It’s Harry and Liam’s heart drops to his ass. “He-” The door slams in Liam’s face, promptly cutting off Liam's greeting. He can hear the dead bolt lock into place and that’s it. This isn’t going to work. It’s over, it’s done. Liam leans forward and presses his head to the door instead of walking away because his feet are rooted. They’re stuck in the ground and he can’t pull them away. 

It’s just that he can’t walk away from Harry again. Not physically or any other way. He’s stuck here because this is where he needs to be. Liam's eyes flutter shut, taking in the silence of the hall. 

“Please just listen to me.” He sighs, silently praying to anyone or anything that would listen that Harry was still on the other side of the door. 

Silence. Unyielding silence. 

Liam huffs a sigh and hits his fist against the door, not knowing the words to say or where to begin. He squeezes his eyes shut tighter. 

“But soft,” he starts and almost winces because it feels pathetic. “What light through yonder window breaks. It is the east, and Harry Styles is the sun.” 

He runs his nails against the door, “Arise, fair sun. And kill the envious moon who is already sick and pale with grief.” His voice pleads a bit, like reminding Harry of one of their small moments could work a miracle. “That thou, her maid art far more fair than she: be not her maid since she is envious; her vestal livery is but sick and green.” A long sigh slips through his lips as he slinks down to sit on the floor against the door. “And none but fools do wear it; cast it off.” He finishes in a near whisper, sighing. 

“Oh, it is my lord. It is my love.” He mumbles, hitting his head against the door. “Oh, that he knew he were.” This was pointless. Useless. But he couldn't stop for whatever reason. Is it working? Is Harry waiting on the other side of the door, clinging to Liam’s every word. Or is Liam just a freak sitting in the middle of the hallway talking to himself. Then he hears it. The faintest sound on the other side. Harry sighing or brushing against the door or something, just enough to keep Liam going. 

“He speaks, yet he says nothing. What of that? His eye discourses; I will answer it. I am too bold, 'tis not to me he speaks: Two of the fairest stars in all the heaven, having some business, do entreat his eyes to twinkle in their spheres till they return. What if his eyes were there, they in his head? The brightness of his cheek would shame those stars, as daylight doth a lamp; his eyes in heaven would through the airy region stream so bright that birds would sing and think it were not night. See, how he leans her cheek upon his hand! Oh, that I were a glove upon that hand,” Liam whines, pulling his knees to his chest. “That I might touch that cheek!”

The door swings open, forcing Liam onto the floor on his back. He stares up, a look of confusion on his face, to find Harry staring back down at him. 

“Ay me.” Harry sighs, his lips pushing into a pout as he kneels next to Liam’s body. 

It makes Liam’s lips twist into a smile, allowing himself a new sense of hope. “He speaks.. Oh speak again, sweet angel.” Liam reaches up, slowly and cautiously because he’s not sure that he has the right to, and pushes a bit of Harry’s hair behind his ear.

“You didn’t finish the pass,” Harry commands, folding his arms across his chest. 

“Your hair is getting bigger.”

“My hair is getting bigger?”

Liam nods, taking a bit of it in his hand and gives it a gentle tug. “Yeah. Bigger.”

“What are you doing here, Liam?” There’s the sigh that Liam’s been waiting for. The sigh that breaks his hope, reminds him that he’s not welcome in Harry’s life anymore.

Liam’s eyebrows knit together. He’s not sure, actually. On the way over he’d felt so sure about himself, so adamant about going and talking to Harry. His need to be near the boy, his desire to be here, burned a fire inside of him. It crashed over his entire body over and over again like waves pushing him against the shore relentlessly. Except now he’s here and there’s nothing crashing over him. If anything he’s standing in a drizzle of his own self-doubt. He doesn’t have the words to say to Harry and even if he did, he’s not sure how he’d even begin to get them out. 

He just looks up, his eyes bouncing around Harry’s face until they finally fall in line with the other boy’s gaze. Harry’s emerald eyes feel icy as they pierce into him, waiting for an answer from Liam’s that’s not coming. His eyes flutter shut for a moment as he takes in a deep breath and releases it from his nose. Be honest. That’s all he has to do. Be honest.

“I just-” Liam fumbles a bit with his words, pulling himself upright. Maybe sitting up will help him think, help him sort his mind out. “I’m like- I’m not myself anymore.” Liam starts, his eyebrows pulling together because this all sounds so stupid in his head and he knows it will when he finally gets it out too. “I don’t know how to be myself anymore. Not without you.” 

“I see you in everything, Harry. You’re everywhere around me. It’s pathetic. I’m pathetic.” He lets out a strained laugh. “You’re in the way the milk mixes with my tea and the way pad thai tastes. The way my duvet smells, my dreams, the stars. In every set of green eyes, and every line of literature I read. You’re everywhere, you’re everything. You’re haunting me. Fuck, it’s driving me god damn insane.”

Harry nods slowly, his eyebrows knitting together. “So what do you want?”

“You, innit? I want you. I want to see your sleepy face when you wake up, again. I want to see your lips twist into the first smile of the day and then into the last one too.” Liam offers a shrug because it’s all he can do. “I want you to be the warmth in my bed again. I want to hold your hand while we watch telly, I want to kiss you in front of all our mates, and their mates and their mates too. I want to take you home to meet my mum and for her to proper embarrass me with pictures or videos or whatever. I want you to be my boyfriend and for me to be able to say that. I want you even if that’s not what you want because I’ve gone and ruined it all. I want you as a friend again, if that’s what you want. Someone to grab a coffee with, or to study with or whatever. I just want you around, Hazza.”

“You’re so daft sometimes.” He punctuates the statement with a laugh and a shake of his head. Harry’s hand raises, cupping Liam’s jaw gently and before Liam can respond the pad of Harry’s thumb traces against his bottom lip. The world fell into slow motion with Harry fisting Liam’s shirt in his hand as he leans closer into Liam. It’s enough to make Liam’s breath hitch just before their lips meet. Liam’s hands move immediately, fumbling to grip Harry’s sides and pull him closer until he’s got his arms completely wrapped around the boy. It’s somehow slow and feverish at the same time, Liam wanting to take his time with slotting his lips against Harry’s while still trying to get as much of Harry as he can. The thing is, he doesn’t deserve to kiss Harry. Not in the slightest, but Harry’s kissing him and Liam knows that no one gets anywhere without being a little selfish sometimes. So he kisses back, his tongue poking out ever so slightly to swipe against Harry’s pink lips. He can taste him perfectly. Peppermint tea and something sweet, like a chocolate biscuit or maltesers like he’d been enjoying a snack before Liam showed up. It makes the boy laugh into the kiss, breaking it apart slightly.

Harry uses the moment to compose himself, leaning away from the kiss to wipe the back of his hand against his eyes and for a moment Liam thinks he’s lost again. Except Harry’s smiling and he moves his hands to Liam’s shoulders. “I want you too,” He explains, “I always have, I’ve just been waiting for you to catch up.”

There’s a laugh caught in Liam’s throat as he nods, pressing his forehead against Harry’s and pulling him into his lap. “I’m so sorry.” He moves his hand to push hair off Harry's face, his eyes bouncing around his features again. “I never wanted this to happen, I was stupid.”

“Yeah,” Harry agrees but he's still smiling, his hand cupping Liam’s jaw gently. “I know.” And it's just simple and comfortable. Harry’s in his lap and feeling like something permanent again. They just fit, sitting in the doorway of Harry’s flat and holding onto each other like this is how they were meant to be. This is how the universe intended it from the very start, from the very first star. The very first atom. 

They stay like that for a moment, inhaling and exhaling each other’s air until Harry breaks the silence, pulling away to look at Liam’s face. 

“Do you want tea?” He asks and Liam does, so he nods. It's that easy with them. 

****

***

“Liam, wake up! It's Christmas!”

Liam stirs a bit, rolling onto his side so he can peek his eye open and check the time on his clock. He lets out a dramatic groan, closing his eyes and rolling back over to wrap his arms lazily around Harry who’s sitting up, leaning over Liam a bit.

“Harry, it’s 5:07 a.m.”

“Yes,” Harry starts, “but Santa’s come and it's snowing.”

Liam huffs, nuzzling down into his pillows before pulling the blanket up to his chin. He is barely uncovered but his shoulders shiver as sharp, cold air attacks him. “We live in central London. It’s not snowing.” His words twist into a fog in front of his face, showing him that the heat isn't on. Or isn't working. Or maybe Zayn left the window in the living room open again when he smoked last night. Whatever it is, Liam takes it as a confirmation that he isn't getting out from under the covers no matter what his boyfriend wants.

“Okay, I lied.” Harry admits, whining a bit as he tugs on Liam’s blanket. “Santa really did come, though.” He leans down, pressing his pouting lips against the taut skin of Liam’s jaw. “There’s a really big present with your name on it.” His nose trails along Liam’s jaw, his lips peppering kisses in its wake.

Liam hums, shifting under his blanket slightly and angling his head for Harry’s mouth. “What’d he bring me?” 

“You’d find out if you would open your eyes.” Liam’s ears perk up a bit, hearing Harry rustle around with something foily. Like wrapping paper or something of the like. Still, he keeps his eyes closed just waiting for Harry to start whining again.

It doesn’t take very long, the younger boy lets out a soft whimper as he moves to reposition himself to straddle Liam’s lap. Liam’s hands struggle a bit to free themselves from the blankets and sheets but find their way to Harry’s waist, gripping it blindly and holding Harry in place. His eyes open slowly at that, blinking the sleep away as he looks up, his eyes raking over Harry’s body. He lets out a laugh, giving Harry’s sides a little bit of a squeeze as he notices the large ribbon that Harry’s placed on top of his own head. “Are you my gift, then?”

Harry nods, careful not to shake the bow off, and flashes a wide smile.

“I already had you, though.” 

“But now you can have _more_ of me.” Harry drags his hand against Liam’s chest, humming gently as he looks down at him. 

Liam quirks his eyebrow, squirming a bit under his boyfriend clearly riled by his words. They had fooled around plenty, they had done that before they even really became friends, but they hadn't done -- that. 

With trembling fingers, Liam reaches up to pull the bow from Harry’s hair and places it on the nightstand to his right. His eyes rack up and down Harry’s body, his hands following the same path as they glide down his chest and come to rest at the hem of his jumper. He fumbles slightly, pushing the shirt up and over until he gets it off and tosses to the ground soon followed by Liam’s own shirt. 

The cold air bites at Liam’s uncovered chest, chilling him through to his bones until Harry leans down and peppers warm kisses across his collarbones chasing them with his tongue afterwards. He’d catch hyperthermia if it weren’t for Harry’s mouth, he’s sure. 

He’s lost in his thoughts, his hands gripping at Harry’s hips as Harry grinds down against Liam. His breath hitches, a gasp getting caught in his throat as the other boy lines up perfectly with him as he circles with a slight laugh against Liam’s skin. Then he’s sucking a mark against Liam’s neck and finding a perfect rhythm with his hips. It’s making Liam’s vision blur already so he adjusts by squeezing his eyes shut and tossing his head back deeper into his pillow. His mind clears once Harry’s lips finally meet his own, working them open so their tongues could chase each other between each kiss. 

He can taste last night on Harry’s lips still, the peppermint hot chocolate they drank and the sweet cookies they ate. He’s only distracted from it by the way Harry leans up and cants his hips against Liam’s, earning a gasps that Harry swallows down with another kiss. It’s all too much and has Liam quickly stiffening, causing his pants to fit a bit uncomfortably.

“Do you remember,” Harry started, rolling off of Liam and giving him a brief moment of relief as he pulled the blankets the rest of the way off of the bed. “when we first talked on the phone?” 

Liam nods, remembering the time they had phone sex just a few days after switching phones as he turns his head to catch Harry fumbling out of his underwear. 

“Told me I could ride you.” The curly-haired boy hums back, giving himself a quick pump before stretching over Liam and grabbing the small bottle of lube and a condom from his nightstand. “Said I wanted you to open me up so I could fuck down on your fingers like I fucked down on mine thinking about you.” He hums the second sentence in Liam’s ear, peppering kisses against the skin there afterwards. Liam stiffens completely at Harry's words, his pants tenting against his cock. 

“I remember,” He gasps, his hand flying down to relieve a bit of pressure against his cock. He’s so gone, he’s so fucking gone. There’s no point of return from how hard he is just at the thought of watching Harry come undone beneath him, or seeing him fucked out on top of Liam. Both scenarios have him gripping at his balls to hold himself off. He hums softly as Harry’s tongue laps against his skin, his hand sliding against Liam’s stomach before dipping into the waistband of his boxers. He flinches a bit as his hot groin is met by Harry’s icy fingertips but in a strange way it feels good, makes his skin pull tighter as Harry gets a good grip around him. 

He gives Liam a good tug, panting softly against his neck as he does so. “Well, I’m tired of waiting.” He hums and Liam flips them around, grabbing Harry roughly by the waist and tossing him onto his back as he presses down from above, his hard on colliding with Harry’s with only a thin layer of cotton between them.

“You look so good under me,” Liam hums, lifting Harry’s legs up and hooking them in his elbows as he grinds against him, leaning forward to press rough kisses against his lips. Liam’s tired of waiting too, he’s thought about this since they first shared the lewd texts in their first days together and he’d only gotten a small taste of what this could be like in the months to follow. His fingers fumble to find Harry’s where he’s still clutching the bottle of lube, taking from him and popping the top off. Harry hums at the sound, making Liam smirk a little.

He pulls back a bit, just enough to wiggle himself out of his pants and kick them away so when he lowers again he’s skin on skin with Harry. It forces a gasp from his lips, his abdomen tightening with the feeling. They rock together like that for a moment while Liam slicks up a finger and presses it against Harry’s hole, gently at first just adding a bit of pressure with his fingertip.

“Cold!” Harry hisses, squirming under Liam with a quiet laugh. Liam takes the moment of his relaxation to slip his finger in, slowing working it in to the knuckle.

“Payback.” Liam smirks, pressing his lips tenderly to Harry’s chest tattoos as he screws his finger in and out, working Harry for a few minutes before adding another. 

It’s a miracle that any part of Liam could be cold when his chest feels like its center is a fire burning bright. He can feel the blush against his skin deepen as Harry spreads his thighs further and starts working himself down on Liam’s fingers as he adds a third, scissoring them slightly with each stroke. He stills for a moment, just watching Harry move against his messy sheets as he fucks himself on Liam’s fingers. He uses his free hand to roll the condom onto himself, slicking himself up and pumping a few times just to ease some tension.

Harry moans now, ending it with a whimper as his fingers clutch at Liam’s chest. He looks so needy, writhing around under Liam. “God,” He whispers as Liam curves his fingers and pushes in a little deeper. “I’m ready, god-” He sucks in a sharp breath, twisting his hips a bit before fucking down hard enough for Liam’s fingers to nearly bottom out. “Need to ride you, Li.” He groans out, his back arching off of the bed. It’s enough to have Liam’s head spinning with desire, with need. 

“Soon.” Liam furrows his brows, pulling his fingers out only to replace them with the head of his cock. He can’t wait anymore not after seeing Harry under him like this, already looking fucked out. He pushes in slowly, letting Harry adjust to his size before going further. He feels Harry shudder below him, his eyes rolling back a bit.

“ _Move_ -” Harry spits, trying to grind down on Liam already. He would be, if Liam didn’t have such a tight grip on his waist. “ _Leeeeyum_ \- c’mon. Move.” He whines again and Liam obliges, pumping into him slowly. He eases in after that, almost bottoming out in the first stroke before pulling back and pushing in again. Their breaths hitch simultaneously, mixing in the air between them. “ _Fuck me_ -” Harry starts again and Liam’s really starting to get tired of his lip. “like you _mean it_ , Liam.” 

Liam's large hand moves to splay against Harry’s torso, holding him down as he picks up the speed. He can hear the sounds of their thighs hitting together echoing through the room, partnered with their labored breathing and the occasional whine slipping from Harry’s lips when Liam bottoms out in him, staying deep for a moment to offer a few short quick pumps against Harry's prostate.

He can feel the tightness in his abdomen, the heat radiating deep inside of him. He is getting close but his focus remains on Harry. He wants to see him get off first. His eyes take in his boyfriend; his chest is red and marked up with kisses and spots where Liam’s beard rubbed him raw. His lips are red, swollen and wet. His hair- god. A mess. He’s never looked so beautiful, Liam thinks as he grips his waist again and flips them.

Liam moans outrageously as he sees Harry’s cock bob, the wetness on his head catching the morning light from the windows. Harry adjusts quickly, spreading his hands against Liam’s chest and bobbing his body easily now that he’s had plenty of time to adjust to the size of Liam. 

“Jesus Christ,” Harry pants, tossing his head back as he bounces. He digs his fingers into Liam’s chest which makes Liam’s grip tighten harder on his waist, the pads of his fingers pressing deeper into the skin. “Fuck- grip me harder.” Liam obliges and Harry picks up speed, “Fuck- yes, yes, yes, like that.” 

Liam lifts his hips off the bed a bit, practically slamming Harry back down onto him every time the boy lifts up. “Is-” He huffs, “this good?” He punctuates the question with a drawn out moan, pressing his fingers even harder into Harry's skin. 

Harry nods, coming to a stop to grind his hips in circles with Liam stuck deep inside. “So good, so-” He moans out, arching his back as he speeds up. “God fuck!” Liam moves a hand, wrapping it around Harry’s firm cock. He manages to get a few pumps in before Harry swats him away. “No, no no. Just from you.” He hums, bouncing himself again. 

It doesn’t take much longer until Harry’s coming white strips against Liam’s tanned skin, his body dropping bonelessly on Liam’s chest as he does so, moaning directly into Liam’s ear. It’s about three pumps later that Liam joins him, biting down on Harry’s shoulder and squeezing his hips tighter as he comes. His vision goes white as he screws his eyes shut and shouts out Harry’s name mixed with a few curses. 

They lie still, come sticky between them and their breaths slowly mellowing out together. Liam runs his hands up Harry’s waist gently, working them up to rub against his back. He rolls them over again, wincing slightly as he pulls out and hops up to grab his shirt and clean them up with it. 

“I’d get a warm cloth but I don’t want to cross the flat.” He says with a soft laugh, pressing kisses against Harry’s eyelids as he cleans him off. 

“That’s okay,” Harry whispers, his voice groggy. He opens his eyes to reach out for Liam, wiggling his fingers like a needy child. Liam drops back onto the bed, tossing the soiled shirt to the floor again. “Stay here with me.” 

He nods, pulling Harry closer to him. “Couldn’t get rid of me if you tried,” He mumbles back, pressing a kiss to Harry's jaw. 

“Good.” Harry’s hand slides down his own torso, coming to rest at the red marks left by Liam’s grip. He smirks, pressing down on the places that will surely be bruises in a few hours. “Could have a wank to these.” He mumbles, pressing down on the other side now. “Just thinking about how they got there.” It turns out he's being serious. Proven by the twitch Liam notices from his dick as Harry pushes harder. 

“Masochist.” Liam hums, shaking his head as he tucks the mental note away. 

They’re quiet for a bit and Liam thinks that maybe Harry’s fallen back asleep until he stirs a bit and presses his lips against Liam’s bare shoulder. He turns his head, his eyes meeting Harry’s emerald ones. The other boy just smiles, nuzzling into Liam as his eyes flutter shut again. Liam will wake him in a few hours, giving Harry and himself enough time to shower before the other Christmas festivities take place.

****

***

Their families show up around two o’clock. Not just Liam and Harry’s, but Zayn’s too. All piled into their flat for Christmas tea. It’s not as bad as they had imagined, originally. It’s just Liam’s parents and two sisters, Harry’s mum and sister then Zayn’s parents and his three sisters. Just eleven extra people. It could be worse. If Niall hadn’t flown back to Ireland at the end of term. Or if Louis had gone through with begging his family to come see him for his birthday/Christmas instead of hopping the train to Doncaster three days ago. That would have added twice the amount of people.

The parents sit around the table, getting to know each other while sharing embarrassing stories of their sons while all the siblings sit around the sofa and arm chairs. In the end, Zayn, Harry and Liam end up on the floor, their legs crossed with plates resting in their lap so that their siblings can enjoy the luxury that is their cheap living room furniture as they eat dishes brought by each family. Sindhi biryani from Zayn’s mom, as per his request. A roasted turkey from Liam’s mom and several side dishes from Harry’s mom, including chestnut stuffing, bread sauce and roast potatoes. They’d left the three boys to their own devices on desserts and drinks so Harry had spent the last two days baking while Zayn and Liam weighed out all of their favorite wines and sodas, playing rock paper scissors several times before settling.

It had all come together so well, their families blending together seamlessly as they watched all agreed on watching the Doctor Who christmas special as they cleaned their plates off and argued over who had to do dishes before Harry cheerfully volunteered, earning praise from Liam’s mother and his own alike. 

“You’re outshining me,” Liam whines, pressing himself against Harry’s back as the boy stands elbow deep in dishwater. “I think my mum likes you better than me already.

“Don’t know how to outshine you, sunshine.” Harry retorts, leaning back into Liam’s touch willfully. He cranes his neck a little, glancing around the corner at their mothers and Zayn’s laughing together over glasses of wine. “Do you think she really likes me, though?”

“‘Course she does,” Liam replies immediately and honestly, pressing his lips against the back of Harry’s shoulder. “I don’t think people can help but like you, Haz.” He mouths against the boy’s shirt, dragging his lips until they make contact with the skin of his neck. “You’re too special.”

Harry lets out a quiet giggle, shaking his head as he rinses off the last plate in the sink. “You’re so mushy.” He turns, draping his soapy hands over Liam’s shoulder to pepper kisses against his lips, laughing softly between each one. 

“Alrigh’, love birds. Mum says we got’a do t’crackers now.” Zayn interrupts, holding out two shiny packages for them. 

After Harry dries his hands and Liam steals a few more kisses they join the families in the living room, crossing arms over their chests to pull apart the crackers.

Liam laughs as he ends the game with two, bragging about his strength before handing one back to his sister and digging into his own. His paper crown’s purple, much to his pleasure, he slides it on immediately, looking up to see Harry struggling to get his on over his mop of hair and eventually having to have Zayn’s sister Safaa help him with it so as to not rip the delicate paper.

Liam’s father clears his throat, gaining everyone’s attention. “What do they sing at a snowman's birthday party?” The group shrugs, which Liam’s father smiles in reply to. “Freeze he’s a jolly good fellow!” He sing-songs, laughing ridiculously at.

They all take their seats again, getting comfortable as the group takes turns sharing the jokes they received. Harry ends up in Liam’s lap, sharing quiet giggles as Liam whispers into his ear, wrapping his arm around him. By the time it gets to be their turn, Harry’s lost his paper, making up a (probably even worse) joke on the spot. “What did Adam say to his wife on the day before Christmas?” He laughs for a solid fifteen seconds before delivering the punchline. “It’s Christmas, Eve.” He says with a sigh, clutching his stomach from laughter and leaning further into Liam’s chest. Their families laugh. Maybe at the joke or probably at Harry just in general but Liam just smiles, hides it in Harry’s hair and whispers sweet words that get lost in the surrounding noise. He’ll try again later. There’s plenty of time for it.

 

_Fin._

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading!! you can find me on tumblr // [mix](http://crystalmreed.tumblr.com>crystalmreed.tumblr.com</a><br%20/>%0Aand%20a%20great%20mix%20by%20my%20big%20bang%20artist%20here%20//%20<a%20href=) and another from a very dear friend here // [mix](https://8tracks.com/beaconkills/green-eyes-i-d-run-away-with-you)


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